The Wanderer Trilogy: Part 3 Broken Road
by Newfiegirl17
Summary: The last installment to the trilogy, Dean and Sam find themselves thrown into another case that will toy with their emotions and lead up to a choice that will change their lives.
1. Chapter 1

Well, here starts the next and final installment in the Wanderer Trilogy and I hope you all like it. You've all been amassing thus far. I've been saving a lot of Dean's in makings to myself until this story and so I hope you enjoy it. It's all just what I've been building up to for the entire series just that now it's all up to what I've been planing since page one. Hope you like it!!

--

**Chapter 1- Intro**

_Beatrice, Nevada: Three Weeks Ago_

He eyed her from across the club where he sat at a lonely table. It had been a long while since he had seen a woman that beautiful. No, sexy. Her cocoa legs shone in the spotlight, her thighs not entirely covered by her skirt. Her hair, a brown tussle of curls, was hanging down around her shoulders so that he could just make out a strange floral and ring shaped tattoo on her arm.

Slowly, she swayed lower to the floor and up again, holding the microphone to her mouth, lips full and pouting as she sang.

'_A tease_,' he thought.

He took another swig of his drink. The liquid no longer supplied a satisfactory burn on it's way down his throat; it just tingled. He had been there for a few hours now, wallowing in self pity and hate, trying to drown himself in liquor. Trying to figure out what went wrong or why he had not seen it coming, that is until she took the stage.

Their eyes met and he was sure that she knew he had been watching her intently. He did not care. The song ended and he watched as she strode over to him, gently leaning in on his table. He could see right down the front of her well-filled shirt.

"Hey handsome. What's your name?" she asked in a silky, smooth voice to match her brown sugar skin.

"Robert. Robert Joss."

"Mine's Cynthia," she smiled at him, "Well, Robert," walking slowly around the table she stood behind him, gently massaging his shoulders, "What brings you out here tonight? I see you're sitting here alone."

"My wife left me."

"Aw, that's too bad," she lowered herself to him, hand resting over his chest, body touching his, and whispered in his ear, "We can't leave a nice, handsome man like yourself on his own now can we?"

He rose from his chair, staggering slightly, and allowed himself to be led away from his table and towards the back exit. The door opened into a disserted alleyway behind the club, dark and hidden. Here she laced her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him ferociously and wildly.

Responding to her fine and sexy body, he pushed her against the wall, lifting her up onto him, her legs wrapped around his waist. She helped him to undo his belt buckle, pulling it off and tossing it aside. He knew she could feel his manliness against her as he slid his hand between her thighs and beneath the cover of her skirt. Her brown eyes flashed a bright green and then everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2- Crazy Love**

Jo felt herself slip out of sleep and into slight awareness. Her head was still filled with the lasting memories of her dreams; move She could still smell the sweet scent of his skin, taste his lips and hear his voice singing to her, softly in her ear.

"_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night..._"

His voice sounded so clear to her. Opening her eyes, Jo rolled over and looked up into Dean's face, full of serenity. He was looking down at her, propped up on an elbow beside her. It had not been a dream after all.

"Good morning, Beautiful."

"Good morning," Jo sighed, stretching out her arms and lying flat on her back, "How long have you been up?"

"Just a few minutes," Dean began to hum again, still staring down at her. Self-consciously Jo tugged at the bed sheets; even though she had already bore all to him, she still needed to cover her nakedness.

Dean grinned as he watched her pull on the covers. It was cute how she still remained coy with him as they were lying in bed. It helped her, in his eyes, to retain her innocense that he had somehow always seen in her. Admittedly he had seen her as a school girl when they had first met, but now he saw her as a woman.

He had had her once again. Been with her all night and then had laid down next to her, holding her tight. Still, after being gone for such long stretches of time, every time felt just as relieving and fulfilling as the first. A breath of fresh air after being on the road and doing the job.

Lowering his head, Dean kissed her neck and down to her chest, cradling her head in one hand and wrapping an arm in under her. Her skin was so smooth and warm, like velvet beneath his fingertips. He blew a raspberry between her breasts and grinned as she curled up in his arms and giggled.

What he felt right now, lying next to her with only a thin sheet between them, was something like he had never felt before. It both scared and enthralled him. He could not put a name to it, was not sure he wanted to. With everything that had happened to him in the course of his life, he hardly dared to think the worst.

"So, I guess you guys are heading out again today?" Jo asked. She drew him up with a gentle tug on his ears, bringing him face-to-face with her before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Yeah," he groaned, his body weighing down on her a little, "Sammy found a job in Utah."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Hopefully we can get back in a week or two. Coming back here all the time isn't easy you know."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience," Jo teased, playfully hitting him in the ribs.

"You're not...," Dean lowered and kissed her neck, "...an inconvenience...," kiss, "...just a little...," kiss, "...annoying and...," kiss, "...stubborn," kiss.

"Annoying and stubborn, huh?" Jo laughed.

"Yeah, but you're beautiful so it doesn't matter."

"Dean, when are we gonna go on a date?"

Dean rose up from her with a confused look on his face. She had caught him off-guard like she had meant to. She tried to keep a straight face but her lips began to curve upward as she observed his wrinkled nose and questioning eyes. Finally, Dean smiled down at her and laughed saying, "What?"

"You know," she mused, "Our first date. We've never really been on a date."

"Where did this come from?" he asked, smoothing a strain hair back, his mouth still in a wide grin.

"I dunno."

"Well, hey, we've been on a date before."

"Oh yeah, when?"

"How about when I took you out for dinner last month? We played pool, ate. You had a great time."

"Dean," Jo moaned, "A date would be called going somewhere together _without_ Sam riding backseat."

Dean stared off over her head with another odd expression on his face, as though confused by the concept of not having Sam with him. Jo laughed and ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head toward her for a kiss. He looked so adorable when he was trying to think.

"So," she said, "How about it?"

Dean laughed. "Well, how about when I get back we'll ditch this place, drive over to Helena, and leave Sam to play Craps with your mom?"

"Sounds like fun."

"And I'll find us a nice restaurant that doesn't serve a Cheeseburger Platter as the days special."

"Ooooooooh, really? Don't spoil me," Jo giggled.

Dean smiled and kissed her. "Then we'll go find a nice hotel room and stay the night. We wouldn't even need to sleep," Dean smirked at her but she gave him a playful nudge.

"You don't think I'd think I'd actually sleep with you on our first date?" she asked in mock surprise.

"Oh really?" Dean swooped down to kiss her, talking while still attached to her mouth, "And what if you're so mesmerized by my sexy charm that I take advantage of you?"

"Well," Jo kissed back, "I guess I'll just have to learn to control myself, won't I?"

Wrapping their arms around each other, the couple kissed passionately. Dean lifted his leg around to her other side to completely envelop her and tugged at the sheets, pulling them away, so that there was nothing between them, just skin on skin. Two completely different people coming together so closely that they were almost one body.

"Dean..." Jo whispered into his mouth.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

The kiss halted for a moment and then broke as Dean pulled away. He looked down at her once again, only this time his expression was unreadable. Was it confusion? Or was it fear she saw in his eyes? He let go of her and rolled off onto his own side of the bed.

Jo knew what must be going through his mind and she could not blame him. For Dean it must be scary to think about opening up his heart to someone else. Everyone he had ever allowed himself to love, with the exception of Sam, had left him. He was afraid that she would leave him too. She had had similar feelings, but could no longer fight what she knew she felt in her heart.

Jo propped herself up on her an elbow just in time to see Dean open his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He tried again, only achieving a stutter, and Jo silenced him by placing a finger over his lips and then cupping his cheek in her hand. He looked up at her.

"Dean," she whispered, "I understand. I don't want you to say it back. Well, I do, but not until you're ready."

"Jo, I..."

"I get it, I really do. I just wanted to let you know, okay," Jo kissed him softly on the cheek. Her lips moved to his lips. After a minute, he kissed her back and wrapped an arm around her once more.

"Jo," he said brushing the hair out of her face and rubbed her nose with his own, "I do care about you, but..." Dean's voice trailed off, lost for words.

"I understand," she repeated and kissed him again. She did not need to hear it from him, not right away. Right now she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his kiss, and hear it in the way he whispered her name. For now, that was good enough.

--

_I know, I know, starts right from the off with a big chapter but hey, I bet I got your attention. Haha. Well Please review or criticize or whatever thanks for reading. Next chapter will be:__** Thirty year olds and leopard Bras**__. Have fun toying with that title for a few days haha._

_PS... Thanks to all my readers that reviewed on my last chapter of part 2. Yes I had a wonderful time on my trip I got to see some family I hadn't seen In a long time and got to visit a few new places here on the Rock that I hadn't been to before. I hope you've all enjoyed the beginning of all of your summers as well._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3- Thirty years olds and Leopard Bras**

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"C'mon, Dean, time to wake up."

Dean heard his brother's voice on the other side of the door but refused to answer. He felt comfortable with his face hidden in Jo's silky hair and he did not want to leave her just yet. Once he gave in to Sam's calls then he would be gone for a week or more when all he wanted to do was to lie in bed next to her just like now.

But then again, maybe distance from her was what he needed, to put some space between them. Dean had tried to tell himself that it did not matter, but what Jo had said to him still played heavily on his mind.

_Knock. Knock._

"Jo, can you wake him up please?" Sam called through the door, "We need to get some breakfast and hit the road."

"Come on, Dean," Jo whispered and nudged him as Sam's footsteps died away, "You gotta get going."

Dean groaned as he dug his face into his pillow and felt Jo leave his side. The mattress creaked a little as she rose from the bed and Dean felt the usual coldness creep over him. Opening one eye, he watched as she stood back-on to him clipping on her bra; the same bra he had so easily unfastened the night before. She glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.

"Are you getting out of bed today or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds nice."

Dean groaned again as one of yesterday's socks hit him in the face. Rolling out of bed, he allowed himself to be pushed into the bathroom by Jo to take a shower. He did not ask her to join him or make little jokes about her eagerness to get him wet but just shut and locked the door behind him. A shower would give him time to think.

Turning the faucets, Dean adjusted the temperature of the water and stepped in. The water was luke-warm and felt wonderful as it ran over his body and soaked his face. Dean lathered himself in soap and sniffed in deeply. He laughed when he realized that he smelt just like Jo but the grin dripped off his face a moment later.

So she loved him? He had known that their relationship would inevitably reach this point, and that eventually he would be ready, but it had already happened, and so soon. How could Jo have fallen in love with him so quickly? It had only been...

Four months. Four months had passed by since he had first come back to the new Roadhouse and swooped Jo into his arms. It was hard to believe how close they had become and he had to remember that Jo had had feelings for him long before that. He had to admit that he had always felt something towards her as well, but to say that he loved her would lead down a road that he was not sure that he wanted to go down.

The shower shut off and he climbed out, wrapping a towel around his waist. Taking a step forwards next to the sink, Dean looked at himself in the mirror. Studying his features he liked what he saw; he was young and fit and had a demanding job that kept him on his toes. The last thing he needed was a serious relationship. He was only thirty years old after all.

Dean looked again at his thirty-year old face. Many men by his age were already married to the love of their lives and had kids. They had their well to do jobs and their nice little homes. Their families were growing while his was slowly slipping away.

He walked away from the sink and back into the now empty bedroom. Throwing the towel to the floor, Dean picked through a pile of laundry on top of the dresser and pulled on some of his freshly laundered clothes. After combing through his dripping hair, Dean left and found his way to the kitchen, a droplet of water running down the back of his neck.

With a quick glance around, he saw Ellen standing in front of the stove where she was flipping grilled-cheese sandwiches in the frying pan and shooing Ash out of the way as he begged for a taste. Jo was standing next to her sneaking the dog bits of food when her mother was not looking and Sam sat to the table with his laptop out before him. Yawning, Dean took a seat next to his brother.

"Morning," Sam greeted, unseen behind the computer.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean replied swiping at the water running down his collar.

"All right there sunshine. What's the matter with you?"

"Dude, you woke me up. Hey, Ellen," Dean turned towards the older woman, "could you pour me a cup of coffee, please?"

"Yeah sure thing, hun," she said placing a sandwich down in front of him.

"Doe, what's de dob again?"

"Man, do you ever swallow before talking?" Sam asked, shutting the computer.

"No," Dean said as Ellen handed him a mug and rapping him sharply on the back of the head.

Rolling his eyes, Sam answered, "Signs of a werewolf attack in Utah. Five dead so far. The deaths follow the lunar cycle and the police reports say that a wolf or large dog is probably the cause. Naturally, their hearts were missing, but get this... they were also gutted as if the thing was digging deeper for..."

"Dude!"

"What?"

"I'm eating here!"

"Yeah, well," Sam slid his laptop into his case and turned towards his own breakfast, "we gotta get a move on. Th lunar cycle starts tomorrow night so we have to try and figure this out before it gets a chance to go hunting."

"Sammy, you gonna be alright doing a werewolf gig?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing," Dean gulped down his hot coffee, burning his tongue and spilling it over his front. Five minutes later, getting up from the table he announced, "Okay, I'm gonna go get packed up and we can get outta here."

"I'll help you," Jo said, following him out the door.

In the bedroom Dean retrieved his things from around the room and, as always, Jo attempted to sort out the mess in his suitcase so he could fit it all in without 'wrinkling'. He had just picked his underwear up off the lamp where it had been discarded last night when Jo spoke up in an unfriendly tone.

"Dean, what the hell is this?"

He turned around and saw Jo glaring at him, holding up a leopard pattern bra which she had just taken out of his bag. Dammit!!

He had forgotten that it was there. Last week had found him in Atlantic City following a suspect into a strip joint. He had simply taken it back to the motel with him as a 'souvenir' after it had been tossed at him by a busty, little redhead. He wasn't about to throw it away! but he had not expected Jo to find it. Best to play it safe, he thought.

"What's what," ok, maybe just play it dumb instead.

Jo never spoke but simply shook the lingerie in her hand and held it higher.

"It's... um... it's a present," Dean lied, faking the most honest smile he could muster.

"For me?"

"Y... yeah.'

"It's a D-cup, Dean."

"Sam picked it out..."

Dean ducked as a book flew towards his head and hit the wall behind him.

"Okay, Jo, I can explain..." He ducked again as she threw his steel-nosed boot at him, "Jo, c'mon, I..." this time he was close enough to her that she was able to draw her arm back and succeeded in punching him powerfully in the stomach.

"Humph!" Dean moaned as the air flew out of his lungs.

"Get out of here. Now!"

"Jo..."

"Go!!"

"Fine!"

Dean grabbed his bag and the few other things that were left unpacked and stormed out the door, the leopard bra hitting him in the back of his head on the way out.

--

_Hope you like it please review. The next chapter will be: Big Little Brother (you can almost predict a brotherly moment huh? Lol)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4- Big Little Brother**

-_Three weeks later_-

The black Chevy Impala roared down the highway leaving Paducah, Kentucy in its dust. The sound of sirens had not been heard for about five miles and they hoped to keep it that way. Ducking the cops had not been easy once the alarm had been tripped, but they had gotten the job done and had escaped in the nick of time.

The youngest of the Winchester's sat in the backseat trying to bandage a gash on his hand. One clumsy moment had been all that was needed for him to be slammed into a wall where a single, rusty nail protruded and had ripped open his palm. It was not a serious or very deep cut but not cleaning it would surely lead to waitress.

"Hey, Dean," Sam called over the sounds of heavy metal music erupting from the speakers, "Can you slow it down a bit?"

"What?" Dean asked turning the volume down.

"I said the cops are long gone so can you slow down a bit? I'm spilling the peroxide every time you go over a bump."

"Well you better clean it up before it stains the seat," Dean warned, easing his foot off the accelerator, "So how's it looking?"

"It's not bad," Sam wrapped the gauze around his hand and taped it in place. After replacing all of the items back in the first-aid kit, Sam climbed up over the front seat.

"Hey, dude! Watch it would ya? Geez, your gonna rip the seat!"

"Man, I thought we were done for when we were coming out the back door."

"Yeah," Dean said grinning, "But on the upside, that creepy-ass thing got what it was askin' for."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, cliping his seatbelt, "Where are we going now?"

"I dunno, I was kinda hopin' we could stop at a bar, grab a couple beers, maybe a couple waitresses. Huh?" Dean raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"Dean, maybe we should head back to Nebraska," Sam flashed a quick glance at his brother and looked back out the passenger's window, "You know, you should talk to Jo."

"Man, don't start that crap again," Dean snapped, "I told you that I was not going back there. Jo wanted me gone so I left. Why are you so concerned with my love life anyway? It's none of your business."

"You're kidding me right?" Sam asked bewildered, "After Jessica died you were always on my back about hooking up."

"Well that's different."

"How?"

"I'm..."

"Older, yeah, I know," Sam huffed and shook his head, "Still, somehow, I'm more mature."

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

Dean glanced over at Sam, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

The two brothers drove on in silence for a few minutes before Dean spoke up again, "I dunno, man. She kicked -me- out, remember. It's not like she's called me or anything."

"You haven't called her either."

"Yeah, I know."

"So what's going on between you two anyways?" Sam asked ejecting the tape and letting the radio play.

"I told you," Dean pushed the cassette back in, "She found that stupid thing in my bag and freaked. After almost breaking my ribs she screamed at me to get out. She wouldn't even give me time to explain."

"Would you have?"

"Yes... maybe. Well, that's what happened anyways," Dean turned up the volume of the music.

"Yeah, I know," said Sam turning the sound down again, "but that's not all. You wouldn't just give up on her like that. There's something else on your mind. We're brothers, now what's up?"

"It's nothing."

"Dean, c'mon. You can tell me."

"Sam..." Dean whined.

"I'm not giving up Dean, so you may as well tell me."

"Fine. Jo told me she..."

"She what?"

"She loves me."

"Yeah, so?"

"Man, she loves me!" Dean repeated as if he could not see how Sam could miss the significance of the situation.

"Dean, people fall in love everyday."

"Yeah, well, not me."

"So you don't love her?"

Dean turned off the music and stared out at the road, "It's not that. It's just..."

"What, Dean? What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing. Let's just drop it."

"C'mon, what..."

"I SAID DROP IT SAM!" Dean shouted.

"Fine," Sam said, looking back out the window. He waited a moment for Dean to cool off before speaking again, "Look, I got a call from Ellen this morning. She got wind of something, a job, and she wants us to come check it out."

"Ahh, I guess Jo never told her.'

"Actually, she told her that you two were arguing about hunting again and how you didn't want her to do the job. Which means... she's not mad at you at all."

"How do you know that?" Dean asked, glancing over again.

"We do talk on the phone. She likes to keep up on us when we're on the road.'

"Dude, what are you like pen pals?"

"No, she just called me to see how we were and told me... you know what, are we gonna check this out or what?"

"Yeah, alright fine," Dean grumbled, pulling off to turn in the opposite direction, "This is gonna be awkward as Hell."

--

Dean pulled the car up to the tavern late the next day. The last time he had done so he had been eager to see Jo but this time he was not particularly excited for the visit. Seeing Jo this time would mean talking to her about what had happened, and he was not sure if he was ready to talk. Still, his stomach did a familiar, hopeful leap.

The truth, he had realized during the drive there, was that he had felt more comfortable with this wedge between them than he had just before the fight, after she had confessed her feelings to him. At least if she was mad at him he had one less problem to worry about. Maybe if she was angry with him long enough than she would realize that she did not really love him like she had thought.

"Dude," Sam said dragging Dean out of his thoughts, "You coming?"

"I dunno, Sammy, maybe we should just go before they see us."

"Dean," Sam said, annoyed, "We're just gonna get a folder and we'll leave again."

"Oh yeah," mocked Dean, "Until you and Ellen start one of those fuzzy, little chats and she offers us a drink and Jo drags me off to kill me. No thanks. You go on and I'll keep the car warm."

Sam huffed and got out of the car, a cold breeze entering as he slammed the door shut. For February, not much snow had fallen but the air was bitter cold. From inside the car he could see Ash tied up in his dog that he had built, the retriever kept warm by his thickened fur coat. Plucking his collar up around his neck, Dean turned up the heat just as he heard Sam call out from the front bridge.

"Dean!"

Rolling down the window he shouted back, "What?"

"Get up here. Now!"

Playing with the idea that Jo had Sam at gunpoint, Dean got out of the car and stalked up to where Sam stood stock still in the doorway.

"Hey, Sasquatch, what's going on?"

Sam took a step inside and to the side and Dean followed him through the door.

--

_-Thanks for reading everyone!! Hope you liked it and I hope everyone is enjoying their summers. Please review. Next chapter will be: __**Green Eyes**_-


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5- Green Eyes**

The screen door opened and the chimes above erupted in their glee as always. Jo, who was standing behind the bar washing some glasses, looked towards the entrance to see who the new comer was. She watched as the young woman stepped across the threshold, scan the room, and then strolled over to the bar, taking a seat on the stool.

"One beer, please," she ordered.

"Yup," Jo replied, turning around to grab the beverage from the cooler.

The girl sitting at the bar looked to be about her own age Jo decided. She had long, straight black hair that hung down to her waist and a pale complection, giving her the look of the princess Snow White Jo could remember from one of her childhood books. That is, if Jo could not also distinguish beneath her hair the shadow of a tattoo on her neck.

"Here you go," Jo placed the bottle down in front of her and went back to cleaning up.

"Not very lively here is it?" the girl asked.

Jo glanced around the room. Three men stood at the far side of the tavern playing pool while a middle-aged couple sat at a table sipping on a set of coffees. Otherwise, business had been slow all morning, giving her mother time to catch up on the records while Jo tended bar. It was no surprise; except for travelling hunters not many people tended to stray outside of town in the winter.

"Yeah, it gets pretty boring around here sometimes."

"So, do you know of any fun places? Somewhere for a struggling artist maybe?"

"You sing?"

"Yep."

Jo laughed, "You're in the wrong place. We're not really in to variety nights around here, especially this time of year. The best we've got is that Juke box if you wanna sing along to some classics."

"I bet those guys over there would like it," the girl joked, nodding her head towards the hunters.

"Yeah, I bet. My boyfriend, Dean, would just love to see..." Jo's voice trailed off as she paused in wiping clean the counter and just starred down at her hands.

"Oh, yeah? So tell me about this Dean." the girl cocked up her eyebrow and took a sip of beer.

"He's an arrogant jerk with a smart-ass mouth who doesn't know when to keep his hands to himself," Jo shot at her but softened her tone again, "But I guess he's charming and funny in that sarcastic, annoying kind of way that makes me want to kill him."

"Sounds like you love him," the girl commented. When Jo did not reply she turned in her seat to get a better look of the men, "I'll say the one in the leather jacket would give yours a run for his money."

"Yeah, and I'll say that if you put those three guys together they still wouldn't have enough brains to tell your head from your ass. 'Course Dean usually can't tell a woman's breasts from her face."

The girl flicked her head around and gave Jo a quick grin before turning back towards the men. For a moment Jo had been sure that she had seen her eyes flash green. She looked down at her neck and noticed that her black hair had fallen from her shoulder to reveal the tattoo on her neck.

Jo observed the emerald ink that had been encrypted into the skin, it was shaped like a strange floral pattern. The pedals of the flower were two, adjacent triangles with a single, long leaf sprouting from the base of its thin stem. Beside it was a ring with small lines crossing through it.

Jo, recognising the symbol right away, reached below the bar top and held up a wooden stake above her head, "I know what you are."

The girl stood up and faced her, eyeing the stake and Jo's daring expression. "Then you should also know that that alone won't kill me."

Jo lunged forward and drove the tip of her weapon deep into the girls shoulder. Drawing back, Jo stood ready for another attack. "No, but it'll hurt like Hell."

The girl looked painfully down at her wound and then back up to Jo, "You shouldn't have done that," she said, as she raised her hand and Jo lost consciousness as everything went dark.

--

Dean followed him through the door and took the tavern in, wide-eyed. The bar room had been completely trashed and left with its contents strewn all around. Picture frames had been thrown across the room, the juke box torn from the wall and tipped over onto its face, and other items had been stripped or swiped away from their places.

Dean rushed over towards two older people lying beneath a table and lowered his cheek to their mouths. Not feeling any breathing, he checked quickly for a pulse. Dropping the woman's wrist, Dean turned to look over his shoulder.

"These two are dead, Sam."

"Yeah, so are these guys," Sam called from beside the pool table where three other bulky bodies laid. Dean stood up and glanced around again.

"Jo?" no answer. "Jo? Ellen?"

He walked about the fallen tables, taking in once more the mess of debris around him. Bottles of liquor were shattered everywhere, the cupboards were all opened and stripped of their contents, and even one of Ellen's secret compartments in the wall had been found and emptied. It seemed as though someone had been looking for something, and was determined to leave nothing behind. Even a piece of the ceiling had been torn down and piled onto the floor on top of...

"Sam!" Dean shouted as he ran over to where the hand jutted out from under the rubble which covered the rest of the arm. Attached was Ellen, her body covered in plaster dust and broken glass.

She was just as still as the others.

Sam appeared at his side just as he neared his face to Ellen's. No breath. He grabbed her wrist and counted the seconds until he was able to feel the faintest pulse beneath his fingertips.

"She's alive," Dean whispered as if not to wake her. Shrugging off his leather jacket, he ripped open Ellen's button-up to reveal her white t-shirt. Rising straight above her, Dean began pumping her chest hard and fast before plugging her nose, covering her mouth with his own, and following with two quick breaths. Sam took his place above her and took up the compressions while Dean continued to do the mouth-to-mouth, checking for breathing in-between.

"Come on, Ellen," he urged her as the minutes ticked by, "Come on, dammit, breath."

Finally, a short gurgling noise issued from the back of her throat that turned into a harsh, dry cough. Dean elevated her head onto his lap as Sam cleared the debris around her. For a few moments, she continued to cough weakly, her throat choked from the dust. Only after Sam had poured some water into her mouth and she managed to swallow was she able to speak.

"Jo," she moaned.

"Shhhh," Sam hushed her as he tried to pour more water into her mouth, "Ellen don't talk. We'll get Jo."

"T...took her," Ellen coughed again and did not try to speak for another minute, "Got Jo."

"Jo? Who's got Jo?" Dean asked, panic rising in his chest.

"Dean!"

"Sam, we've gotta know."

"Took her... got J...Jo... couldn't st...stop her."

"Ellen?"

"She's g...got Jo... green eyes."

--

_Hope you like sorry for the wait I'm working right now and gettin ready for uni. Review please I love to hear comments it brightens my day. Cheezy line I know but I smile when I see someone noticed lol. Next chapter will be: __**Fallen Soldier**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6- Fallen Soldier**

Ellen went limp in Dean's lap once more but this time, mercifully, her chest continued to rise and fall slowly. Dean looked up at Sam who stared back, both knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Something had Jo. Something had taken her and had killed five others, had almost succeeded in killing Ellen. But what?

Dean kept staring off into space, even after Sam had ducked down to examine Ellen. He could not think, not clearly. What had happened? Was it a demon? It was impossible with all the new security around the building, but then what else would take Jo? What would happen to her? Where was she? Nothing came to mind only that she was missing and that he had not the slightest idea how he would find her.

"Dean," Sam's voice gave him a start, "She's got to get to a hospital."

"Yeah," he replied, trying to get a grip on himself, "Yeah, okay. Help me bring her out to the car."

"What about the others? We can't just leave them here."

"What do you want me to do? Fill the back seat with dead bodies and bring 'em to the cops. That'll look real good."

"Well we've got to do something."

"Fine, okay," Dean tried to think, "Ahh, we'll call Bobby from the hospital. He'll want to get out here and check this out before the feds get their noses in it."

Sam nodded in agreement and they went on to getting Ellen up off the floor. Pulling his arms through in under her sides and up to her armpits, Dean lifted her upper body (stubbornly not using his legs and grunting under her weight) while Sam took hold of her legs. Together they raised and carried her carefully out of the wrecked tavern and into the frosty air. Placing her gently into the backseat, Sam backtracked to turn off the open sign and lock the door before they both hopped in the car and tore away.

Forty minutes later at the hospital the two brothers silently waited outside the emergency room, anxiously awaiting the news on Ellen. The doctors had taken her from them almost twenty minutes ago and had disappeared through a set of swinging, white doors. No one had come to look for them since.

The boys tried to keep busy while they waited, but had not spoken a word to each other. Sam had called Bobby from the car and explained to him what they had found. Luckily, Bobby was working a job not too far away and would be there soon. All Dean could manage to do was to continuously call Jo's cell phone, getting nothing but her voice mail, and to sit, leaning forward, in one of the plastic chairs of the waiting room with his head bowed and arms on his knees.

"Sam, would you stop pacing for two seconds?" Dean shot up at his brother who, by now, had almost dug a trench through the floor.

"Did you get an answer on Jo's phone?" Sam asked stupidly.

"Yes Sam, I got an answer. She's vacationing in Florida and sends you her love. C'mon, do I look like I got an answer?" Dean ran his hands through his hair and stood up, "And what the hell is taking so damn long?"

"Dean, calm down. The doctors will let us know something as soon as they do."

"Yeah, and when will that be, huh?"

"Don't get mad at me. Go find someone yourself if you don't want to wait."

Dean glared up at him before stomping towards the door just as someone else came into the room. Bobby was out of breath and had obviously just ran through the hallways to find them. He stopped in the doorway for a split second and came in once his gaze had fallen on the two boys.

"I got here as fast as I could. How's she doing?"

"We don't know yet," Sam answered.

"Yeah, since all the doctors in this place just went on a freakin' coffee break," Dean supplied, returning to his seat.

"So what happened? Did you two see it?"

"No," Sam took over, "we just got there and found Ellen lying on the floor along with five other dead bodies. We haven't called the cops yet but we locked the door behind us. No one's getting in there. Thought we should check it out first."

"We'll have to work fast," Bobby said, "The last thing we need is for the wrong person to see those bodies. And when we do call it in, the two of you best be the hell out of dodge. If the feds pick up on your scent, then you two had better..."

"Mr. Harvelle and Mr. Harvelle?"

The men turned around towards the woman who had just entered and spoken. The doctor was a short, small lady, the top of her head barely reaching Dean's chin as he stood up once more and walked towards her. She had her curly brown hair pulled back in a long ponytail and wore no make-up. Her large, blue eyes were looking up at them patiently from under her fringe.

"Would you come with me, please? I'd like to talk to you both in private," she asked, her tone sounded soft but formal.

"No, no that's okay," Sam cut across, "This is our uncle. He's her brother."

"Alright," she said, glancing down at her chart and then back up to the men, "My name is Dr. Curtis. Your mother has been moved from the ER and into her own room on the third floor. I'm going to need you to fill out some paper work as well."

"How's she doing?" Dean asked as Sam took the papers.

"There's never an easy way to say this Mr. Harvelle, but your mother is currently comatose," she paused a moment to let the news sink in and continued, "There's no way to tell if her current state is tentative or permanent. In fact, we have no way of telling how she became this way. Are you quite sure there are no medical problems that she has? Anything that may help us to speed her recovery?"

"Not that we know of," Sam told her, "El... Mom has always been healthy."

"Well, I must tell you that her condition is worst. Ms. Harvelle is at risk of a heart attack. Her heart rate is very rapid and we have so far been unable to slow it. This has caused a rise in blood pressure as well. We have her medicated, but she's a very lucky woman to have survived long enough to get here."

Dean put his hand over his face and turned away, fixating his eyes up at the ceiling. Sam seemed to be rooted to his spot but was deep in thought. Bobby took over, "Where is she?"

"She's on the third floor," the doctor told him, "We'll keep her here where she'll have her own private room and constant monitoring. If you give me a contact number, we can call you with any change in her condition."

"Yeah, sure," Sam stepped forward and wrote his cell phone number on her clipboard. Bobby's eyes now wandered over to Dean who looked back, his expression a mix of fear, anger, and confussion.

"She's in room three twenty-eight on the third floor," Dr. Curtis said, "Visiting hours are from eight am to seven pm. I'll be speaking to you men soon."

The doctor turned on her heel and left the men alone.

They stared at each other for several minutes in silence. It was all so much to drink in at one time that it hardly seemed real. Even Bobby looked dumbfounded. It was difficult for them to hear about Ellen in such a weak condition; she had always been one of the toughest and strongest women any of them had ever met. She met the standard of most male hunters and was just so, so invincible. It was hard now to think that she was only human.

Hell, she had been shot and had left the hospital on her own with all the bounce back of a twenty-year-old only a few short months ago.

Leaving the waiting room Dean, Sam, and Bobby walked together through the halls until they found the stairway. Remaining silent all the way up, they reached the third floor and found the room number where Ellen was to reside. After a moment's pause, Bobby turned the knob and pushed open the door, but noone entered. The three men just looked in from the doorway upon the figure lying in bed.

Hearing the doctor's story had been one thing, but seeing Ellen there made it all the more real. She looked so peaceful that she could have been sleeping if not for the monitors around her, the needles protruding her hand and arms, and even the sickly smell of the hospital around them.

"Right," Bobby said, "Let's get to work."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "I'm ready to go."

"Good," said Dean gruffly, "Cause I can't wait to kill this son of a bitch."

--

_Thanks for reading, hope you like it. Please review. So I just gotta ask... any predictions? Anything you hope to see? My first copy has made it to chapter eleven so far and I'm open for anything that makes it longer. I'm estimating 16 chapters in all but I wanna do it right. Thanks again. Next chapter will be: __**Tattoo**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7- Tattoo**

Taking a longer, closer look around the Roadhouse made it indisputable that whoever, or whatever, had been there had been looking for something. God knows that with hunters coming in and out of the bar on a daily basis that there had to be one or two things that the building had to conceal, but what?

Everything had been torn apart from top to bottom, a perpetual rampage of plundering throughout the entire home. Dresser drawers were pulled out and searched with their clothes dumped out onto the floor, the backroom looked as though a tornado had passed through it and captured everything in the cyclone, and the bookshelves in Ellen's office, along with everything else, had been stripped and thrown haphazardly throughout the room, several of the books were even ripped apart.

"Ellen's gonna be so pissed," Dean sibilated, looking at the chair-sized holes in the wall.

"Yup," Sam agreed, slamming the emptied cash register shut.

"Boys, come over here and take a look at this," Bobby called out. He was crouched down low behind the bar, next to the spot where Ellen had been, and was inspecting some shredded papers he had collected from the floor.

"Yeah, you find something?" Dean asked as he and Sam bent down next to him. Dean caught a glimpse of blood on the bar and the walls of his stomach clenched.

"You boys said that you came here to get a case, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well this folder has your name on it," Bobby held up a brown filing folder that indeed had 'Winchester' scribbled across it, "I think some of it is missing though. I just can't seem to pull it all together, but this," he held up two newspaper articles that had been ripped down the middle, "I did find."

Dean took the two pieces of paper in his hands so that Sam could see as well and scanned over the write-ups. The first article was a cut out obituary dated for two weeks earlier for a man named Robert Hilroy in Beatrice, Nebraska. It was a normal piece; headed with a picture of Mr. Hilroy and a brief mention of his family and career, but it was the second article that caught their attention.

The news report was proceeded by the same picture as was in the obituary but sat next to another picture of the same man only this time he was covered in dirt and on the side of the road. They read on below the photos and found out that he had been reported missing a week prior to his death and was found in a ditch on route eighty, not far from the pub he had last been seen in. He was at first suspected to have run off because of family issues but was now very unlikely. According to the report, the autopsy had revealed that the cause of death was a complete shut-down of all the internal organs. The man's body had simply stopped working at thirty-four, cause unknown.

Dean and Sam exchanged bewildered looks and cocked their eyebrows, neither understanding what could have possibly happened more than the other. Bobby spoke first.

"Whatever happened to this guy must have something to do with what went on here. Why else would someone have tried so hard to rip this place apart?"

"Have you ever heard of anythin' like this before?" Sam asked.

"It feels like I should know it but I just can't put my finger on it. Like something I haven't seen in a while."

"Well there's gotta be something else hear," Sam began to rummage through the shredded pages on the floor, looking for something to match up, "Here's another obit from December... and here's one from almost a year ago, a woman."

"There's more here, too," Booby held up some cut-outs where they had been hiding between the bar stand and the cooler."

Dean took the little clippings and drew them away again, "But these people are all from different states, they have different jobs, and different lives. They have nothing in common. I don't get it."

"They all died the same way though," Sam pointed out, "Unknown causes, their bodies just giving up on them. The oldest guy here is forty-two."

"Yeah, so, what is it?" Dean asked, "Is it just some random supernatural killing spree? Did these people just thumb a ride with the wrong freak of nature or what?"

"Well," Sam held up another fraction of paper, "here's a page that was printed from a website. I think it's talking about old European countries... something about fortune tellers and witches. Could this be a witch we're dealing with?"

"God I hope not,' Dean moaned, 'I hate witches. They're just so... gross."

"Wait a minute," Bobby swooped across Sam and Dean and grabbed a torn picture from beneath the mess. The picture was of the back of a woman's, slender shoulder which was bearing a strange looking tattoo. It was some weird floral seeming figure, etched into the woman's skin in green ink.

"Now I know what we're looking for," Bobby said, allowing the boys to see the photo as well. Dean grabbed it and studied it, emerging with a blank, questioning look.

"So, what is it?"

"Did Ellen say anything to you before she passed out,' Bobby asked, "Anything at all?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, "but it was all jumble."

"What did she say?"

"I dunno. She told us that Jo was taken and something about green eyes but that's it."

"Green eyes? You're absolutely sure."

"Pretty sure."

"So," Dean cut in impatiently, "What is it?"

"It's a damned gypsy, that's what."

"Sorry, what?" he asked again since he was sure he had heard wrong.

"A gypsy," Bobby repeated.

Dean laughed despite the situation but stopped immediately when he saw the seriousness on Bobby's face. A kind of lump stuck in his throat Dean spoke again, "You're not kidding are you?" the man shoke his head, "C'mon, a gypsy? As in palm reading, street preforming, tambourine playing, Esmeralda and Quasi kind of gypsy?"

"Bobby," Sam said softly, "I've got to agree with Dean. I've never heard of a gypsy as a supernatural thing before. I mean, sure, they were known for magic tricks and fortune telling, but not like that. I know sometimes they were burned at the stake as witches but..."

"They aren't witches,' Bobby cut in, "but they did have some powers. They're evil spirits with really no purpose only to kill. They can possess people like demons but they're a helluva lot more rare."

"So why haven't we ever heard of em' before?"

"Because they've been extinct for hundreds of years. All of em' were tracked down and killed, but I'm guessing a few of them escaped when Hell's door was opened. But once they're out, if they can find someone strong enough they can regenerate and possess more innocent people."

"So are you saying that one of these things is possessing Jo?" Dean asked sharply.

"I doubt it."

"How can you be sure."

"Because these are spirits that actually need to feed to stay alive, another reason why they went extinct. They live off human energy, sucking the life right out of their prey, which is why these guys bodies just stopped. Sometimes they can feed all at once when they are angry or really hungry, that's probably what happened here to these guys, but usually they'll take someone and hide them away. They can live off a single person for days, maybe even a week, draining away their energy a little bit at a time."

"So how do we find them," interrupted Sam, "if they look like humans."

"This tattoo is the biggest give-away," Bobby held up the picture again, "Everyone of them have this on them somewhere, usually on their upper torso."

"Well that's great," Dean said, "But what I want to know is how to kill em'."

"Burning them alive usually does the trick," Bobby quipped, "But lighting a bonfire in the middle of a crowded place isn't always a smart-ass idea here in the twenty-first century. The only other way I know is stabbing them with a wooden steak dipped in virgin's blood," the boys looked at each other ominously, "Yeah I know how it sounds. They can be trapped in their bodies, too, just by putting any sort of protective symbol on their bodies like a pentagram or something."

"What's this?" Dean asked, suddenly reaching his hand out for something sticking out from under the cooler. Drawing back his arm, he held up a tiny knife about seven inches long. It had a short, black handle and engraved in its curved blade were the initials W.A.H.. It was Jo's miniature dagger that she always carried around, the same one he had once called a pig stick.

"So what you're saying is," Dean said after a long pause, "We've got about a week to find Jo."

--

_Sorry once again for the delay but like I said, I'm busy. Next chapter will be up asap and will be called: __**Playing Detectives**__. Please review I love to read your comments, it really brightens my day._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8- Playing Detectives**

"I already spoke to the police."

"Yes, we know. This is just a follow-up to review your statement and check for any inconsistencies. Mandatory procedure."

"Well it's like I told you suits before," the bartender said, "that guy, Robert Joss you said his name was, I can't tell you much more about him. I wouldn't even remember him if I hadn't seen him leave with her."

"With who?" Dean asked, noticing the bowl of nuts nearby him on the counter and reaching for them.

"That singer. Woo-hoo, she was a hottie, best I've seen come through those doors in a long time. If I were him, I'd have done the same thing."

"Can you be more specific?" Sam asked, taking the bowl from his brother.

"You detectives aren't too bright are you? Alright, we have open mike here on Saturday nights. That sexy, Latino babe stools in and takes over the stage for half the night. Around midnight I saw her go over to the table where the Joss guy was sitting and then they snuck out the back way together."

"Did he come in with anyone?" Sam pretended to jot down notes on a pad which to Dean looked like a cartoon of Spongebob.

"Nah, he came in alone," the man said, leaning down against the bar, "Poor S-O-B. Walked in around eight. He looked miserable, too. The papers said that he was having family problems and I'd bet a week's salary that his old lady was leaving him."

"Did he say that?"

"No, he just had a look about him, like his whole world was crashin' down around him. It was obvious he was in love the poor sap. Women, huh, what they can do to us."

"Yeah, I hear ya," Dean smirked.

"Well, anyway, I can't remember ever seeing him before, of course he could have come here a hundred times and I wouldn't even remember. I've seen so many faces around here that they all sort of blend together. Still, in this line of work you get to recognise things about people. This guy, for example, broken heart. He came in here, ordered up drink after drink, just told me to keep em' comin'."

"Okay, so back to the girl," Dean said, stuffing his hand in his pocket and withdrew something from it, "You gave her description to our, ahem, friends already, but can you tell us if she had a tattoo like this?"

The bartender leaned over and took the photo to study for a moment before handing it back to Dean, "Yeah, I think she did. Right here on her arm," he indicated to a point on his arm.

"And did you see her again after that?"

"No, and her I would have remembered. That was the last time I saw her."

"And if you see her again you give us a call."

"Yeah, no problem, Detective..."

"O'Connell."

"Right, I will."

"Thank-you for your help," Sam nodded towards him.

"Yeah, no problem again. You sure you don't want a drink before you leave?"

"Actually..."

"No," Sam interrupted, "No, thanks, we're fine."

The brothers walked away, already loosening their ties as they left the bar. The chilly wind bit at their faces and seeped through their black suits but they had no time to stop for a warming coffee at a cosy restaurant as they climbed into the Impala. They were in a hurry to solve the case, and the clock was ticking away the precious moments they had left.

Having left the Roadhouse the day before they had driven directly to Beatrice, leaving Bobby behind to deal with the police and his own investigations. The old man had just given them orders to find out what they could about the Joss death and to find out what else they could about the gypsies. He would call them when he found something himself.

Dean had wasted no time in getting to Beatrice, breaking every speed limit there was and not stopping once for food or for rest, but it was still too late to begin their investigation. After much persuasion from Sam he agreed to take the night easy in a burnt out little motel, checking out police records and autopsy reports before turning in early so as to start fresh in the morning.

Fresh was not what Dean had felt. He had tossed and turned in bed until two in the morning, sleep evading him as he laid there wide awake. He had even tried getting a warm, un-caffeinated drink to relax his spinning mind but nothing seemed to work. When finally he did manage to nod off his head was filled with nightmares about Jo, about where she was and what was happening to her. He had not had a single nightmare since he was six years old just a couple years after his mother had died but tonight his dreams were riddled with torment so that when he shot up from the sheets around sunrise, sweat rolling off him, he could not bare to close his eyes anymore.

The first visit they had made was to Joss' widow. She had told them from the very beginning of their investigation that she had indeed intended to leave her husband and had told him so the night he had first disappeared, having stormed out of the house and slamming the door behind him. According to her, Joss had never been a heavy drinker but was quick to anger, although she knew that he would never have run off without his favourite signed football. Despite having initiated the divorce, Mrs. Joss had seemed truly torn over her husband's recent passing.

"N...no matter what h...h..ad happened between us," she had sobbed, "I still lov...ved him, I just c...couldn't be with him any longer. He w...was such a workaholic and..."

She had gone on with her explanations but nothing she had said or any of the answers to their questions had helped them get very far. The fact that Joss had been extremely healthy and that it would be almost impossible for him to have died of natural causes really did not matter in the least. Mrs. Joss also had not known about any woman or seem to have known that he had left with one the last time he had been seen alive. After leaving the home, their next stop had been the bar, 'Jerry's Saloon', to talk to the bartender who had been working the night Joss had gone missing.

"Well," Dean said, sitting behind the wheel and throwing his jacket into the backseat, "We can definitely say that it's a gypsy behind this guy's disappearance. Maybe the same one got Jo."

"Yeah, maybe," said Sam tossing his jacket back with Dean's, "But now we've got to try and find her."

"Well, we're gonna have to go to the police and get that description. Maybe they've got a picture of her drawn up on the computer or something that we could get. We'll track her down from there."

"Okay, and what do you plan to do if we find her and she's not the one who's got Jo?"

"Then we make her tell us where her friends are," Dean gave Sam a determined look and turned the key in the ignition.

"Sounds like a plan."

Pressing down hard on the gas pedal, Dean drove away in the direction of the police station, going much faster than was necessary and almost taking out someone who was crossing the street on a bike. It only took them about five minutes to find the tall, white building in the middle of town, conveniently located next to a donut shop where Dean asked Sam to get them a couple of coffees while he went in to get the description. Parking across the street, the brothers got out and crossed the road and Dean walked straight into the station where thirty policemen currently resided. Sam waited for him anxiously and twenty minutes later he came back out, thankfully without the entire squad following behind him.

"So, what's it say?" Sam asked as they walked back across the street.

"Looks like they've already found the girl and interrogated her," Dean said with an eye-roll, "She's in Crete. No arrest was made, they just let her go with orders not to leave the state. Her story was convincing enough and there was no liable evidence towards her except that she was the last one to see him before he vanished into thin air. I got her picture and copies of her ID's here, and here," he grinned and waved a piece of paper in the air, "I've got her address."

"Great," Sam said grabbing the slip from Dean and opened the driver's side door to get in.

"Dude, I'm driving," Dean said holding his arms up at his sides.

"No, I am. We're going to Crete and I'm not getting in with you driving like a maniac," Sam said getting in behind the wheel, "Besides, you look like crap. You need some sleep Dean and getting us killed isn't going to help Jo."

'Fine," Dean gave up, walking around the car and getting in beside Sam and putting on his favourite pair of sunglasses, "Wake me up when we get there."

--

_Alright, here comes another apology. For those of you who live in America, I am sorry. I have been researching place names on maps but I have no idea what these places look like or how long it takes to get from one to the other. I have never been to the States sadly so please just bare with me for past and future references. Thank you_

_Alright, next chapter will be: __**Invasion**__ :_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9- Invasion**

Dean ran through another empty alleyway that lead to nowhere. He was out of breath but he knew that he had to keep going, that he had to find her before it was too late. Jo was waiting for him to find her and save her and he would, and he would take her in his arms and kiss her and never let go. Still, every moment that went by he worried more and more that he would not get the chance.

But he had to be getting close. In every dark corner he saw a set of lurking eyes like those of a cat. In the shadows something seemed to walk along with him but would disappear whenever he looked over his shoulder. Echoing off the cold, brick walls were the sounds of Jo's voice calling out to him.

"Dean! Dean, please help me! Dean!"

Turning another corner he was met with a dead end. He felt like he was in a maze, one with no exit. There was no way out and he would die there in some back street trying to find a way to the voice that called out to him.

"Dean! Dean!"

Something grabbed him from behind. It was holding onto his shoulder and shaking him. He tried to shrug it off but it didn't work. Looking over his shoulder Dean could see nothing, just a blur of a hand gripping him and shaking him.

"Dean, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

Dean opened his eyes a little wider and slipped out of his dream. He could now make out an arm extending from the hand and lifting his head up a little higher, he could make out his brother's face opposite him.

"Man, you were having a nightmare."

"Where are we?" Dean groaned.

"We're here."

--

Jo opened her eyes and looked around; she was in a strange, dark, empty room. There was nothing and noone around her that she could see. The blinds were drawn on the window which blocked out the outside world except for a single beam of light which penetrated through a broken lat. It seemed to be the only decoration present on the walls.

She sat in the centre of the room. Looking down she could see that she was tied to a chair, her limbs bound to the legs and armrests of the seat. She tried to fight free but was unable to move. She tried to call out but the gag in her mouth stifled her attempts. She was completely helpless and stuck.

The last thing Jo could remember was the Roadhouse. The woman had come into the bar and sat down on a stool like nobody's business. They had talked, she had seen the tattoo and realised what the woman was, a gypsy. Jo had tried to kill her, had lunged towards her and nicked her shoulder, but sadly it had little effect without the precious virgin's blood.

The door opened and the room was flooded with light, causing Jo's eyes pupils to contract fast and blind her. The same girl from the bar came in and walked towards her, her eyes glowing an acid green. Jo could feel the sweat running down from her temples and the colour draining from her face as the woman bent down closer to her. She jumped and jerked the chair she was tied to in futile attempts to escape the gypsy's hand as it reached out for her and five fingertips met her heaving chest.

Jo screamed.

--

"You sure this is the place, Sam?"

"This is what the paper you gave me said. Why?"

"I dunno, I didn't exactly think that this thing would have an apartment, you know? I can't believe it just ah... blends in with everyone else."

"And I can't believe that we just stole from a blood bank," Sam glanced down at the brown paper bag in Dean's hand.

"How else were we supposed to find virgin's blood? Could've used yours I guess."

Sam shot Dean a dirty look before pushing past him on the stairway and stopping on the sixth floor landing. Keeping an eye out for onlookers, they pulled out their wooden stakes and, with great care to not make a mess, dipped them deep into the blood to be sure of the right effects. Weapons ready, they opened the door to the hallway and walked into a lobby where four doors led to individual homes.

The door to apartment nineteen stood immediately to their left.

Sam pressed an ear against the door and nodded. She was home. Holding up his fingers he silently counted out 'one-two-three' and stepped out of the way as Dean kicked in the door and they bursted in, slamming it shut behind them. A young dark woman sprang up from the chair she was sitting in and stared wildly at the men who had just invaded her peaceful Sunday afternoon, her tattoo visible on her arm.

Dean lunged toward her at full speed, his stake aimed straight for her heart. Her stunned expression quickly turned more serious and she flung her hand up in front of her and, in a blast of air, Dean was thrown off his feet and into the wall where he fell to the floor unconscious.

Sam stood with his bloody stake raised as she walked towards him, his eyes fixated on her's, a rancid green. She raised her arm again as she neared him but Sam swiped at her viscously, tearing her skin so that a stream of blood spilled from her forearm. Her head turned upward from her wound and glared through Sam with piercing eyes. Swinging her good arm across her body, the stake in his grip flew away as he was slammed into the wall.

"Where is she?" Sam roared, unable to move.

"Where's who?"

"Jo! One of you took her. We know what you did to Joss."

"Baby, there's more than just me. Lots of us managed to crawl out of the pit when the gate was opened. I wouldn't know where your little friend is," she touched her hand to his chest, "Too bad for you."

Sparks of green electricity ignited from her fingertips and charged into Sam. Throwing his head back, he screamed in pain as he felt the surge of his energy being drawn towards her hand from the rest of his body. Trying to regain some control over himself, Sam tilted his head back down and stared into her evil glowering face before looking beyond her head.

Noting his gaze, the gypsy turned her head just in time to glimpse Dean standing behind her before he plunged his stake into her side. Her hand fell from Sam's chest, who slumped to the floor heaving for breath, as she was pinned against the wall with Dean's hand around her throat.

"Where is she, Bitch?" Dean shouted in her face and he pulled out another blood stained stake and pressed it against her chest.

"I... I told him, I d...don't know."

"I don't believe you."

"Dean."

"Sam, not now."

"Dean, it wasn't her."

Dean starred into the woman's eyes as their colour shifted from green to brown and back again. "Too bad for you," he pressed in hard on the sharpened wood and pierced her flesh. Her eyes went blank as her head bowed, but when it came up again they were hazel and looked at him pleadingly.

"H... help me," Dean heard her whisper as she crumpled onto him and he slowly lowered her to the floor. He had killed what was inside of her but the girl was still fighting.

"Miss, we'll get you some help. Sam, get a wet facecloth. Just hold on, okay, we're gonna help you," Dean tried to comfort her but had not dared remove the stake from her, knowing it would only make things worst.

"I c... couldn't st... stop it."

"I know, just don't talk. Take it easy."

"I d... don't know... know w...where she is."

"Who? Jo?"

"I... I'm s...sorry."

"It's all right, just relax."

"Th... thank you."

"For what?"

Sam ran back into the room with the damp cloth just in time to see the young woman's brown eyes close as she became limp in his brother's arms.

--

_Please review, I hope you do. I'm not too proud to beg. Really I'm not. I'll give you the puppy eyes. I warned you. 69. Sad puppy. Lol._

_Next chapter will be: __**Poison Whiskey**__ (yes, I did use a song title yay me lol)_

_(Good God I'm hyper lol)_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10- Poison Whiskey**

Sam walked up to the motel building, his arms full, and kicked at the door with his foot for his brother to let him in but it did not open. He banged again but there was still no answer. Guessing that Dean was in the shower or had lain down for one of his coma-inducing daily naps Sam began to juggle with his grocery bags and dig in his pocket until he pulled out his room keys and unlocked the door before stepping inside.

His eyes first fell on Dean's empty bed and then scanned the room but there was noone there. In fact, nothing seemed to have been touched or moved since he had left to go shopping over an hour ago. Sam could not here the shower running but still placed his bags on the small kitchen table and walked over to the bathroom door, knocked, and pushed it open. Dean was not in there either.

"Dean?" Sam asked the empty room as if the walls would suddenly come to life and tell him where his brother was.

It was strange for Dean to have been gone for this long without calling Sam to tell him what he was up to. After their quick escape from Crete they had decided to stay in a motel room and take it easy for the rest of the day. By four, Dean had given up on a peaceful afternoon and had gotten up off his bed, told Sam that he had seen a library in town that he was going to check out for any books that may help them and that he would be back by dinner.

Six o'clock came and went and Sam had decided to leave and go for a walk having found diddly-squat on the net. Finding a store not too far from the motel, Sam went in to buy them some food for the next few days and had expected Dean to be back to the room by the time he had got back. It was now getting close to eight and still no Dean.

Sam pulled a can of Coke out one of the bags and thought for a minute. He had been around Dean for too long and had researched with him too many times to think that there was any way he was still cooped up in a library between rows of old, dusty books. Could he have found something and left without telling him? No, Sam answered his own question, he would not, but then that left only one other place he could be.

Sure enough, a half a hour later Sam spotted the Impala parked outside a small bar next to a row of motorcycles and rusty cars. He might have known that Dean would want a drink after what had gone down that morning and should have realized it from the solemn way Dean had acted while they were at the motel. Walking inside, Sam found Dean right away, sitting in his favorite spot at the bar, seated on a wobbly looking stool, his head bowed down over his drink. Something was off, he thought and noticed that Dean was not surrounded by his usual cloud of women.

Sam strode up and took a seat next to him.

"Hey, Jerk, thanks for letting me know where you were."

"Hey, Sam," Dean groaned and then drained his glass before motioning for another. Sam could smell the whiskey on his breath from about two feet away.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"Oh yeeeeeah, I'm just... ha, well..." Dean tried to talk but his speech was just as unfocused as his eyes were.

"Are you drunk?"

"Ha, no," Dean chuckled stupidly, "See unlike you, I can hold my- booze."

"You're drunk."

"So? Why wouldn't I be. I killed that girl-"

"Dude, keep your voice down!"

"-I wasted her and I didn't even think about it. I killed her and she never did anything to..." Dean trailed off, his voice whiney and uncharacteristic.

"Dean," Sam shifted closer to his brother, "you did what you had to do. It's your job. That thing was gonna kill more people."

"Yeah, but not that girl," his voice was still very childish as he stared into his tilted glass, not even noticing as he sloshed some of his drink on the counter, "That girl didn't do anything. I didn't think twice, man, but I should have done somethin'. She could've been all right. She could've lived."

"Dean, how were you supposed to kill that thing without killer the girl it was possessing? It wasn't a demon we killed, it was a gypsy."

"There had to be a way, Sammy, there had to be."

"What makes you so sure? Bobby said..."

"'Cause," Dean slurred, "'Cause there just had to."

"Dean, you're not making any sense."

"Man, 'cause... never mind. Jeez, you ne'er shut up."

"Okay, come on," Sam said thumping Dean on the back, "Let's get out of here and get some coffee."

"I don't want no coffee, Sam."

"Well you can't stay here all night."

"Who says?" Dean asked, giving Sam a feeble shove.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned away from Dean, huffing with his impatience. Dean was unreasonable on his good days, when he was drunk Dean could prove to be down right impossible. The sooner he could get him back to the room and in a deep, drooling slumber the better.

"I couldn't save her, Sammy. I couldn't do it."

"What?"

"I couldn't save her."

"Who? That girl?"

"Her, Jo, anyone..."

"Dean, what's wrong? Who else couldn't you save?" Sam could not hide the concern in his voice. He had never seen Dean act like this before but now his big brother had washed away to a helpless child.

"Sam, I couldn't save anyone. The people I love always die. Dad died _because_ of me."

"Dean, none of that was your fault."

Dean ignored Sam's reassurances and emptied another glass before slamming it back down on the counter and raising his hand in a lazy gesture for another drink, but Sam ushered away the bar tender. Dean straightened and looked up at him so dangerously that he was sure that he would hit him, but instead he patted Sam's shoulder and returned to his miserable state, head bobbing up and down with his arms up on the bar.

"They called me."

"Who?" Sam asked curiously.

"The hospital, dude. Ellen, she had a heart... oops," Dean slipped off his chair and bust out laughing.

Sam caught him under his arms and sat him back up on the stool, needing him to finish what he had started to say, "Ellen had a heart attack? My God, is... is she okay?"

"What? What's wrong with Ellen?" Dean looked up again and would have looked genuinely concerned if he had not been slightly cross-eyed.

'Alright, come on, I'm getting you back to the motel," Sam dropped some money on the counter and draped an arm around Dean's shoulders, he helped his brother into a awkward, standing position.

"The motel?" Dean mumbled on as they left the pub, "Awww, the motel is nice. I can sleep."

"Not right now though," Sam moaned and gave a shove to Dean who had just toppled against him.

"Hey!" he shouted, standing upright and staring at Sam as though he had just had an epiphany, "Can we get some pie?"

--

"Detective Moris, I understand that you were the first person to enter the scene after the incident, but this is not your division. You are not authorized to be involved in this investigation."

"Somebody killed those people and I'm tryin' to help you out here."

"I know, but we're quite capable of handing this case ourselves without outside help."

"I doubt it."

"Look, I promise, when we figure out if the girl was involved in any way at all we will take care of it. For now, we're just trying to locate her."

"Yeah and a hell of a job you're..."

"Listen here, we have all of our resources out there working to..."

"You listen. If this department didn't have their heads so far up their asses then you'd be able to see that I've got information that can help."

The police chief let out a long, impatient breath before speaking again, every syllable strained, "We welcome any information you have to give us."

"First," Bobby said, flattening both his palms against the desk, "We've got to make a deal."

"What sort of deal?" the chief asked, reclining in his plush desk chair.

"I'll give you what I've got and you tell me who that girl is."

"For the last time," the chief stood up and leaned across his desk and up to Bobby's face, "I can not give you classified information on an ongoing case."

"You've got her name but I've got something that can help identify her. If she's out there giving some clown a lap dance, he's not going to ask what her name is."

"You know what she looks like?"

"No, but I'd be able to pick her out of a crowd unlike you knuckleheads."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Let's just say I've got a bit of experience with her kind."

The chief looked at Bobby questioningly and opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about but decided that he did not want to know. Instead he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Fine, but if anyone finds out I told you it'll be my badge."

"Nothing leaves this office."

"Okay, the girl's name is..."

--

_Hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be : __**Something to hold on to**_ :


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11- Something to hold onto**

Jo found herself almost slipping into sleep time and time again. Each time her head nodded and her eye lids shut she forced herself out of oblivion, determined to hold on a little bit longer. Staying awake meant staying alive, for she was sure that as soon as she lost control of her body then her mind would give in as well. She could not let that happen. She could not simply go to sleep and die because Dean would surely find her before that.

But where in the world was he?

It was hard to tell how long it had been, but Jo guessed that she must have been here for about three days, and she had long expected an heroic rescue by him. So what could be taking so long? He must have found out what had happened to her by now. The evidence was tucked safely away inside her mother's secret compartment, not to mention on the counter top. She knew that Dean would stop for nothing until she was found. Every time she looked up at the door she half expected him to burst in and scoop her up and bring her home.

She held onto that thought as tight as she could so that she could almost feel his arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around her. She could almost hear him whisper soft, soothing words into her ear, telling her that it would all be okay because he had her back again and would never let go. If she thought long and hard enough she could almost hear him say that he loved her and then those three little words would give her the strength to keep fighting - until she opened her eyes and could only see the small, dark room around her.

She called back the image of his face in her minds eye, adding to it every detail that she had memorized over the last two years like some obsessed little girl. Not a scar or hair was out of place in her picture of him, every detail down to the last wrinkle and the exact shade of pale green in his eyes, so unlike the gypsy's, was perfect. It had to be; clinging to her memories of Dean was all she do to keep from slipping away and losing it all as she whirled into the unknown and possibly into the pits of Hell.

Jo felt herself sag in the chair once more and bit down hard on her tongue, forced her eyes open, and her mind awake. Searching her head for something to clasp on to, she pulled up her memory of the Christmas past. Her first Christmas that she had spent with Dean.

She remembered Christmas Eve, how she had served the bar and had kept glancing towards the door, praying that he would bustle on in, kind of like what she was doing now. They had planned to spend the holidays together and naturally something had come up, but she had still waited all evening for him to show up, and by the time she and her mother had closed up early at eleven, he still had not come.

She had been so nervous that night. Dean had a hunt that could not wait and had told her that he would be there in time but it was now getting late. This would have been normal enough for him and she would not have worried under normal conditions, but for days he had not answered his cell phone or responded to her text messages and she had feared the worst.

Finally, at eleven thirty he and Sam had hurried in through the door, brushing off the first fallen snowflakes of Winter from their jackets. She had been so relieved that he was all right that she flung herself into his arms, which were opened wide to her with no questions asked. Her mother had ushered them in and served a platter that she had prepared and they all sat around a table in the otherwise empty bar. After an hour of friendly chatter and strong eggnog they had all gone to bed and her and Dean had made love for hours.

In the morning, she woke up happily nestled up against him, breathing in his mesmerizing scent of that was special to men. He woke up shortly after and pulled her tighter to him and kissing her. Looking directly into his eyes she could see that he was really happy as he wished her a 'Merry Christmas' before giving her a small, badly wrapped present. Inside had been a beautiful, golden necklace which had belonged to his mother and he clipped it on around her neck. It had been the best Christmas she had had since her father died.

Struggling to sit up straight, Jo hoped beyond hope that she would get another Christmas just like that one. She had to be strong and hold on but her fear of never getting away from her God forsaken prison was coiling up around her and choking her. How much she wished that she had been able to see Dean, or even just talk with him and apologize. She had not seen him for so long and now she may never again. If only she had not been so stupid. If only she had not driven him away. If only...

The realization hit Jo so hard that she could have sworn the chair rocked a little beneath her. Did Dean know that she was missing? He had not called her or come by since the fight. He could be anywhere right now, dragging Sam along on hunt after hunt, keeping busy so that he would not have to return to the Roadhouse, oblivious to her calling out to him. Was it possible that nobody was looking for her?

But somebody had to know. Someone had to have missed her by now. Surely someone had long since come to the Roadhouse and saw... what? The truth was that she had no idea what the gypsy had left behind her. Maybe she liked to clean up after herself and hide the bodies in a burial spot of her choosing. Three days had given Jo plenty of time to think and, as hard as it was to accept, she knew that the people that were in the bar with her were dead, and probably her mother as well.

She could feel the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes but was now more determined than ever. Jo summoned what energy she could and struggled against the ropes that bound her, shaking and pulling and straining against the bonds around her wrists and ankles, the chair dancing across the floor. Finally, Jo heard the crack of breaking wood and gave one more hard jerk, hitting the floor in a loud crash, the old chair crumpling beneath her.

Jo slipped her arms out of the knotted ropes, shook off the bits of wood, and proceeded to pull the foul fabric from her mouth and the ropes from her legs. She wanted to lay down; she wanted to rest a while on the floor among the splintered chair and dust, breathing in large gulps of the musky air and not moving a muscle. Just rest. But reality and rage burned through her deeper than the exhaustion and pushed her up onto her feet. One step at a time she made her way over to the door, placed a hand on the knob, and the door flew open.

She had not turned the knob but it had slipped neath her fingers and now she faced the gypsy, standing in the doorway in front of her, eyes glowering brighter than ever she had seen them before, her face twisted in an evil smirk.

"Going somewhere?"

The gypsy extended her hand again and Jo felt a strong rush of air hit her and throw her, screaming, across the room and onto the floor. She tried to push herself up again but her arms collapsed under the weight of her body. She could hear the gypsy's churning laugh pierce the air around her, making her sick with rage, filling her up with every crackle.

'Get up,' Jo willed her body, 'Get up!'.

Jo heard a loud bang from somewhere else in the house but ignored it and forced her body to move, kneeling up on the floor and dragging herself to her feet. She had just enough time to register the gypsy's surprised look before being slammed into the wall in another surge of power. Jo stared into her face, determined to fight against her but the gypsy was too strong and she was losing the battle, as the door slammed to the room.

"You're stronger than I thought," the gypsy said, approaching Jo so that they were a hair's breath apart, "Maybe you have more use than I thought," she held her hand up, a glowing green ball of flame hovering over her palm.

Jo tried to move but could not as the gypsy lowered her face towards her own an whispered, "I'd like you to meet a friend," and parted her lips as they met Jo's.

--

_Please review, please please please pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaassssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee._

_Next chapter is: __**Circles in my mind**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12- Circles in my Mind**

Dean lay in bed awake, feigning sleep with his eyes closed as he listened to Sam moving around the room, getting dressed and fixing his breakfast. He was not quite ready to get up and start the day and none too excited about beginning the hunt only to find another dead end and that he was no closer to saving Jo than he had been before. His heart swelled with the thought.

Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to relax himself but instead caught a whiff of fried eggs and bacon, causing his stomach to turn over and gave him the sudden urge to vomit. Next he tried rolling over but even the slightest movement made his head pound. The inside of his mouth tasted like a skunk smelled with a small, lasting hint of whiskey.

Yup, he was definitely very well hung over.

All that Dean wanted to do was clear his mind and go back to sleep to relieve himself of his migraine but it seemed impossible. His head positively swam with thoughts of Jo which caused it to ache even more and kept sleep well at bay. Where was she now? Was she alright or was she calling out for help with noone answering her? He did not even know if she was still alive.

Dammit! how could he have let this happen? He had been so scared off his own fear of allowing himself to become emotionally close to another human being that he had willingly put a distance between himself and Jo. It was him who had been too stubborn to go back. He could have called Jo and apologized, but he did not. Now she was gone, stolen by some evil spirit and he was slowly beginning to realize that the physical distance had only made him want her more.

The guilt and grief that had walked him to the bar the night before like a dog on a leash washed over him again. Keeping his eyes shut as tightly as he could, Dean willed himself to find a good thought, a happier thought, and maybe he would fly off to Never Land and finally get some sleep. Dean searched but the only happy memories he could find were those of being with Jo and his thoughts fell on the previous Christmas.

As always, he had been on a hunt that had taken them up to Christmas Eve to take care of. Having had no cell phone signal in the remote, cut-off, haunted village they were in he had not been able to call Jo to let her know where he was but received her worried voicemails on the way back to Nebraska. Instead of replying he decided to surprise her; he had never had anyone to surprise before.

As soon as he had walked into the Roadhouse Jo had come running towards him, happy to see that he had made it, and he had scooped her up in his arms. After some persuasion Jo had let him go and he, Sam, Jo, and Ellen had sat down at a table laughing, talking, and drinking some of Sam's over-zealous eggnog.

He had sat there for a while taking it all in. The faces around him had been so happy and carefree, just all of them celebrating the holidays together. He could not ever remember celebrating a Christmas with anyone but Sammy since his father was usually out on a hunt but this, this was like having a real family.

He remembered sipping on his drink and listening to Sam recount their latest job while he had his hand in his pocket playing with a small box he had as a gift to Jo. When he was only four he had taken to sneaking in his parents room and taking things from his mother's dresser and replacing it a few days later. The night she had died he had stolen her favourite necklace. He had never told his father that he had kept it all these years but he was now finally ready to give it up to Jo. He was not sure why but he knew it was what he wanted.

Now Jo was about to be taken from him the same as his mother had been.

Not wanting to dwell on Jo any longer, and unable to go to sleep, Dean sat up in bed and wiped a hand across his face, groaning as the sunlight fell across him. Fighting with his legs to untangle them from the bed sheets, Dean slid down to the foot and reached down for the same pair of jeans he had worn the day before and slipped them on.

"Morning, Sunshine," Sam said more loudly than was really necessary, "Want some breakfast?" he pushed a plate of food under Dean's nose; a pile of greasy bacon next to two slimy, greasy eggs with running yolks and an extra side order of grease.

Dean urged and gulped down hard, "Ugh... I hate you."

"No worst than a dirty ashtray."

"Ergh, shut up," Dean threw his pillow towards Sam who dodged it and sat down next to him, the plate still in his hand.

"So," he said, "you gonna tell me what last night was about?"

"No."

"Too bad, tell me."

"Sam, come on, I feel like I gonna hurl."

"You said that Ellen had a heart attach?"

"Yeah," Dean buried his face in his hands again, elbows rested on his knees, and then looked straight up at the ceiling above him.

"Well, is she all right?"

"They stabilized her but her heart's still racing a mile a minute. They said they can't see her holding out much longer."

"Then we've just got to get a move on."

"Get a move on to where, Sam?" Dean stood up to face him, "We don't know where the damn thing is, we haven't heard from Bobby about any leads, and even if we do find it, we don't know if killing it will help Ellen or not. For all we know Jo could be de..." the word caught in his throat and he sat back down, bowing his head to hide his face from Sam.

"Dean, we'll find Jo."

"How Sam?"

"I don't know but we'll find her, okay," Sam studied his brother's profile and thought he saw a shimmer in the corner of his eye, "Look, let's just get some coffee and get out of here, see what we can find. I'll give Bobby a call and see what he's been up to."

Sam got up and walked over to the counter, putting the food away. As he was pouring some scalding water into a mug, Dean spoke up.

"Sam, what's it feel like?"

"Huh?"

"You ah...loved Jessica, right? Well, what's that feel like?"

Sam, struck dumb by his brother's random and unexpected question, turned a chair around backward and sat down across from him and handed him his coffee with a couple aspirins. "Um... I don't know. It's different for everybody I guess."

"How..." Dean struggled to pull the words together as they all jumbled up into his mouth, "I mean, how do you know if you're ready to spend the rest of your life with the one person? How...like, how'd you know that Jess was the one for you?"

"I don't know," Sam repeated, 'I guess for me it was during summer break in school. Jess went home with her family and I stayed at Stanford. I thought about her all the time and I missed her even though I would always be on the phone with her. It was only for a couple months but I just knew that I didn't want to be away from her like that again."

"And that's why you had such a hard time after she died?"

"Yeah, I just missed her so much, I guess. She was just... gone."

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Dean apologized feeling like a ass, "I'm sorry I was so hard on you then. I didn't think..."

"Dean," Sam said, smiling a little, "It's okay. You're most of the reason I got over Jess in the first place. I probably would have blown my brains out if I had to stay at school after she died. I'm happy you came along to drag me out of it."

The brothers exchanged grins but quickly the tender, brotherly moment turned into an awkward silence that was finally broken by the ringing of Dean's cell phone. He leaped up and Sam watched as he flipped it open and his expression turned changed serious. He hardly said a word before hanging up and staring down at him.

"That was Bobby,' Dean said, "He knows where Jo is."

--

_Hope you like it. Come on people I wanna hear some nice long comments... I'm losing my inspiration all dramatic like lol. Next chapter will be: __**Saving Jo**_ :


	13. Chapter 13

_Note to reader: Good idea to keep chapter 11 in mind while reading this._

**Chapter 13- Saving Jo**

Dean pulled the Impala into the curb on Delta Drive and killed the engine as he glanced around the peaceful neighbourhood. There were very few houses on the street that were still occupied and with the exception of a cat and the sounds of a barking dog, the street was completely vacant. Many of the street lamps had blown as far as he could see which added to the overall eeriness.

Bobby had told them over the phone not to show up before dark and now, a little after seven in Valentine, Nebraska the last few fading lights of the sun could be seen behind a distant mountain and twilight had set in around them. Despite the uncanny street, the sunset scene in front of them would actually have been quite beautiful if it had not been under the standing circumstances. At this moment, Dean did not need to look at anything other than the old, weathered houses standing in rows on either side of the street. Jo was in one of them.

How close was he to her right now? For all he knew Jo was right beside him in the next house, looking out through the window at his car and begging him to look up and see her. Instinctively he glanced around at the nearest house but there was noone to be seen. Replacing his hands up on the steering wheel, Dean let out a long half groan and leaned forward in his seat.

What would happen when they burst into the gypsy's lair? Would she put of a good fight against them? They knew she was strong; she had killed five people, taken out an experienced hunter, and kidnapped another singlehandedly, not to mention that she had been feeding off of Jo for several days now. Jo. What would they find when they found of her? Would they find her scared and whimpering and alone? Or would he find her cold and lifeless on the floor? What would he do if he took her up and she was limp, the life drained from her once vibrant body? How could he tell Ellen when she woke up, if she ever woke up, that he had failed? How would he ever live with himself?

_Knock. Knock._

A sudden rapping on the window made Dean jump back to life but he breathed a sigh of relief as he looked out at Bobby standing beside the car. Hastily he rolled down the window, letting in the chilling air and allowing Bobby to lean up against the car and poke his head inside. He looked tired but happy to see them.

"Bobby, thank God," Dean muttered, "So do you know where she is?"

"Five houses down on the left, she's in number nine. I've been keeping watch for a couple of hours now. It's been quite. I only pushed my luck long enough to get a quick look around the place. I managed to get a glimpse of Jo through a broken blind. She's tied up to a chair but I didn't want to risk being seen in broad daylight. She's still alive though."

Dean exhaled a lung- full of air he had been holding for the past three days. A wave of relief like no other poured over him, but he was still discomforted with not yet having her tucked safely in his arms. It would not be long until he did though, but first they needed to get in and kill her capture.

"How'd you find her?" Sam asked.

"That blood that was in the Roadhouse was from a girl named Gallagher. After I convinced the police to give me her name I ran a search and the closest hit I got was this girl. The cops probably haven't even found the one in Michigan."

"Nice."

"Not that I'm not enjoying this little chat," Dean interrupted, "But Jo is still being held hostage and I'd like to get her back."

"Alright, come on, it should be dark enough now not to be seen."

Bobby moved back for Dean to open the door and get out. The three men walked around to the back of the car, opened the trunk, and lifted the secret compartment to reveal the cargo of weapons and set of wooden stakes next to the jar of blood. Sam prepared them while Dean stuffed a small hand gun into the backside of his pants as an extra defence and slammed the trunk shut once more.

"Alright," Bobby repeated as they crept down the sidewalk, their eyes searching for any onlookers, "You two stay behind me. We've got to scope out the place first and then I'll show you where Jo is, but we've got to find out where the gypsy is and get in without giving her the heads up. The longer she doesn't know we're around the better. And Dean," Bobby halted and turned around to face him, "try not to do anything stupid to get us all killed."

Dean looked as though he was about to argue against the accusation but Bobby turned again and lead them up to the edge of the property. Walking around the edge of the tree line that bordered number nine, the boys followed as Bobby beckoned them over to a window on the front of the house. A dim light emitted from it which came from a small table lamp inside, under which was a young woman reading a novel on her couch, enjoying the beautiful, quite evening. She looked to be only in her mid-twenties and possessed fair beauty with her soft features and long, black hair. It was hard to believe what really hid beneath those big, brown eyes.

The silence was suddenly broken as a loud noise came from somewhere within the house that made the gypsy jump and the men to look around before quickly ducking beneath the window ledge when she stood up and ran out of sight. They too ran around the side of the house to the back where Bobby lead them to another window; the window to Jo's room. He stooped down and peered through a tiny hole in the blinds.

"She's got Jo," he announced a second later, "Come on, we've got to get in there now."

Following orders eagerly, Dean took a few steps back and kicked at the back door with one hardy thrust and it flew open, swinging in on its hinges. The men hurried inside the house and ran down the hall to the last room in the house where they saw Jo kneeling on the floor with the gypsy standing over her. They just managed to see Jo being flung towards the wall before the door slammed in their faces.

_Black Out!!_

_(I could just imagine going to commercial there lol sorry let's continue)_

With all the strength they could muster they pushed against the door but it would not budge. Every fruitless attempt to smash it in did nothing more than cause bruises and strain on them, tiring them with every push. Finally, they gave up and had just decided to break in through the window the lock on the door clicked, the door knob turned of its own accord, and the door creaked open slowly.

Dean was the first to run forward and ploughed through the door, swooping down to the floor beside Jo who was lying next to the woman's unconscious body. He could feel Jo's breath on his face as he lowered it to her and a moment later she opened her eyes and blinked up at him. Immediately, Dean lifted her into a sitting position on the floor and wrapped his arms around her, muttering thanks to noone in particular in her ear while Sam and Bobby came forward to check out the gypsy.

They were only a few steps away when her eyes flew open, electric green burning through them, and the two men were thrown backward. As she drew herself up off the floor, Dean hurriedly let go of Jo and grabbed the gun from his pants, jumped up, and shot the gypsy between the eyes. However, the bullet simply made her head jerk back before she drew her focus on him, her eye glowing brighter than ever, and Dean watched as she raised her arm up toward him.

"That hurt," she sneered, a trickle of blood running down her nose.

Dean grinned back at her, "And so will that."

A look of confusion flashed across her face and but before she could react her expression changed shock as the point of a wooden spike, dripping in her own blood, protruded from her abdomen. With an almost inaudible moan, Bobby pulled back and her eyes went dark and she fell to the floor. Sam joined them as Bobby threw the stake into the corner.

"That," he said, stepping over the body and pointing at her forehead, "was stupid."

"Worked didn't it."

Bobby said nothing but jerked his head at something behind Dean, and he turned to see Jo trying to stand up and grabbed her when her legs buckled beneath her. Bringing her up, but not letting go, Dean brushed a piece of hair out of her face and looked her up and down.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," she muttered weakly.

"How'd you fight her off? When we came in you were both out of it."

"I d-don't know..."

"Jo, are you sure you're all right? You sound different."

"Yeah, I... I just need a little rest, that's all."

Dean nodded and hooked his arms beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms, carrying her out of the room, followed by Bobby and Sam as they left the house. He held her tightly against him as the stepped out into the cold night air and towards the car, quickly trying to get her as far away as they could. In fact, he was in such a hurry that he failed to see the momentary glint of green in her eyes as he closed the door on her and got in before speeding away.

--

_Hope you like, please review!! Next Chapter will be: __**Something Changed**_


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry guys for taking so long. I've been uber busy lately and totally incapable of reaching the computer. Hope this chapter makes up for it._

**Chapter 14- Something Changed**

Jo fell asleep, lying across the backseat, not long after they hit the freeway using a sweater as her pillow and Dean's jacket as a blanket. As soon as they had pulled out of Valentine, Dean had thought it best to get the worst over with and had explained to her what they had found at the Roadhouse when they arrived there, about the dead bodies and its current state, and about her mother being in the hospital.

For the most part she kept quiet, nodding or shaking her head when asked a question but otherwise remaining silent. Dean could not blame her. He had no idea what she had gone through and, being so close with Ellen as she was, it must be hard for her to hear that her mother was so sick. It was no wonder she could not speak, he thought, although he had never seen her speechless before. In fact, she did not seem like herself at all.

A couple of hours into the drive, somewhere between Fremont and the boondocks, the melodious rhythm of rock broke the nightly silence as Dean's cell phone went off. Taking a hand off the wheel, Dean reached his hand into his jean's pocket and pulled out the phone, flipped it open, and raised it to his ear with a worried glance at Sam.

"Hello?... He's speaking... What?... You're sure?... Yeah, alright. Thanks," Dean shut the phone, his face unreadable, "That was the hospital."

"Oh my God! Ellen, is she..."

"She's awake," relief washed over Dean's face and a wide grin spread up to his eyes, "She's awake," he repeated, "Her heart rate's down, she's gonna be alright."

"That's great," Sam smiled, too, and glanced at the backseat, "Should we tell Jo?"

Dean took a look back at her and shook his head, "Nah, let her sleep. It's another four hours 'til Fremont. Let her sleep."

"Yeah," Sam looked out the side window and back at Dean still smiling, "I'm just glad theat Ellen's okay."

"I'm glad they're both okay," Dean added with another glance back at Jo's sleeping figure and eased off the gas a little as he finally relaxed.

--

"Would ya get off me? I can do it myself."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Harvelle, I was just trying to help."

The attending nurse backed away from the bed while her patient squirmed around trying to sit up and propped herself up on a backrest of pillows. Her efforts to get or do anything for the woman had been stubbornly refused and so she retreated to the task of checking the monitors. The lines on the screen reflected the woman's harsh mood.

A soft rap came to the opened door and the nurse turned to see a young man standing in the doorway. She nodded to him that it was all right to enter and doing one last check on her clipboard, she scanned her patient quickly and left. Dean walked over to the bed and stood at the foot.

"Good morning."

"Dean, Hun, what are you doing her?"

"They called me to tell me you were up."

"They... they said that I was in a coma..."

"Yeah."

"How'd I wake up? The last thing I remember is that girl. It was a gypsy," Ellen said, looking around the room.

"Looks like you woke up right after we killed it."

Something seemed to have triggered in Ellen's mind and she looked up at Dean with wide, pitiful eyes, "I- I couldn't do anything. She just took her and..."

"Shhh, Ellen calm down."

"She had Jo and I tried to stop her but I couldn't..."

"Ellen..."

"What?"

"I've got her. She's right here."

"Hi, Mom."

Ellen's eyes flew toward the door and landed on her unharmed daughter standing next to Bobby and Sam. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ellen tried to get out of bed but Dean bolted over to her and stopped her. Instead, Jo walked slowly in and over to the bed where she embraced her mother in a tight hug before standing at her side. Ellen stared up at her strangely.

"I'm glad you're okay, Mom."

"Sweety, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Dean and Sam saved me."

"Hun, is something wrong?"

"No. Why would there be something wrong? I'm fine, seriously. I just need to get some more sleep, that's all."

"Yeah," Ellen compromised, "Um, Joanna, do you remember anything about what happened when you were taken?"

"No, not really. I just remember the gypsy standing over me."

"Humph... well I guess you were pretty out of it. But you're all right now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired. Can we leave now?"

"Huh?" Dean had not realized that she had turned to him, " Oh, yeah, no problem."

"See you, Ellen," Sam called from the door as he turned and left.

"Good to see you up again," Bobby added, doing the same.

"Goodbye, Mom," Jo said following the men out the door.

"Bye," Dean waved a hand and walked away.

"Dean..."

"Yeah..." he turned on his heel just as he had reached the door.

"Be careful, would ya?"

Dean's expression was confused, "Be careful of what?"

"Keep an eye on her, alright. Something's not right."

"Will do. Bye," Dean turned again and left.

--

Since the Roadhouse had been recently turned into the latest crime scene of yet another unsolved mystery, the group headed in the direction of the best looking motel they could find and rented three rooms; Bobby and Sam each got their own rooms while Dean and Jo shared a bed. It was possibly a first for him, but Dean was thinking of no other motive than to just keep Jo as close to him as possible. It was already early in the morning when they arrived but what everyone craved for was some well needed sleep.

Sitting on the edge of the queen-sized mattress, Dean pulled off his boots and socks while he listened to the shower running in the adjoined bathroom and smiled to himself. It was comforting to hear the evidence of Jo so very close by, that she was safe and sound and within his grasp. It was hard to believe that not even twenty-four hours ago he had almost believed that he would never see her again.

"Hey, Dean."

He had not noticed the shower shut off but looked around to see Jo standing in the bathroom entrance and he twisted his entire body around to better face her. She was leaning seductively against the doorframe wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts that almost fell down to her knees, releasing the smallest look of her thigh from beneath. Beads of water were still descending over her smooth legs and her damp blonde hair hung around her shoulders in waves.

"Hey, Jo," Dean returned, his voice husky, "What're you doin'"

Jo crossed the room gracefully and Dean automatically rose from the bed to stand in front of her. Lifting herself up on her tip-toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

Dean pulled back slightly but not apart, cradling her hips in his hands, "Don't you need some sleep?"

"I can sleep anytime," she whispered in his ear sweetly, "What I _need_ is you."

Their lips met again and Dean was swept away, every thought of sleep gone without a trace from his mind. Hunger washed over them as they kissed with wild abandonment and Dean lifted her from the floor, his hands holding her bare thighs before sitting back down on the bed with Jo perched on his lap, legs around his waist.

Their mouths parted as Jo pulled the end of his tee-shirt and he raised his arms to allow it to be pulled off over his head revealing the wall of rock hard muscles. Shirt discarded onto the floor, Jo began to kiss his neck up to his ear and down to his chest, all the while his temperature heightened. Still, somehow, she seemed different. Something had changed in the way that she touched him and the way that she felt in his arms, as though the woman in his arms was an identical twin.

No, he told himself, it was Jo and any difference was only the result of almost losing her and the intense pleasure of having her back.

Dean's hands caressed her back, pushing the shirt up so that more of her velvety flesh was revealed, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into her neck, kissing whatever skin he could find, pulling her closer to him, embracing her warmth.

It was not until he opened his eyes again that he saw it; the emerald tattoo imprinted on the base of her back. He pushed her back from him and looked into her shining green eyes, shock setting into his own.

The next few minutes were little more than a blur. Before he had been able to say anything she had placed a hand on his naked chest and the green sparks flew. He knew he was screaming and that his body had gone rigid, unable to do anything to stop the surge flowing through his body. The next thing there was a loud bang as the door burst open and the gypsy was being ripped off of him as he slumped onto the bed. Dean looked up at Sam standing over him and down at the gypsy; Jo's body lying unconscious on the floor.

--

_There you go. Hope you liked it. Please review. Next Chapter will be: __**"I'm Sorry."**_


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry guys, I just started university and let me tell you I'm almost happy I'm almost finished this story. I love writing it and I love your feedback, but I have a heap of work now. Hopefully I'll still get time to write the oneshot I started recently._

**Chapter 15- "I'm Sorry"**

Jo rolled her head and groaned.

Her chin rested on her chest, she felt sick to her stomach and had a splitting headache the size of the Grand Cannon, not to mention the warm, burning sensation around her wrists and ankles. She could not believe how close she had been to escaping, had almost been rid of the retched dark chamber she had been locked in for days, tied to the chair by the gypsy. Surely, she would die here.

But wait, she thought, something was different. Rolling her head around again, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her. She was not in the middle of the room anymore. Her nose pointed toward the roof, she could see the orange glow through her closed eyelids. The light was on.

Jo opened her eyes and was just able to glimpse the tiled white ceiling tiles and the lonely lightbulb before her body was raked with excruciating pain. Pure agony tore at the inside of her chest as though something were trying to claw its way out, but no matter how she pulled against her restraints and screamed she could not escape the beast inside her.

"Jo! Jo, calm down. Jo?"

She knew the voice that spoke to her and recognized the rough touch of the hand on her cheek but she could not answer them. All she could do was scream and shake as the pain continued to rip her apart.

Then, as suddenly as it had started , it stopped. Nothing but a burning aftershock and the urge to vomit remained. Slowly, Jo allowed her body to fall limp in the chair.

Two hands cupped her face and raised her head up. She could feel his breath brush against her cheek and when she dared to open her eyes again, Jo gazed into Dean's distressed face. He was kneeling on the floor in front of her, holding her up as he studied her with scrutinizing eyes. Forcing a weak smile to curve her lips, Jo tried to reach out for him but, once again, found that she was tied back. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Jo, are you all right?"

"I... I think so."

"What happened?"

"It... pain. Like something was ripping at me."

"Do you remember anything?"

Jo closed her eyes to think. She remembered being held captive in that dark room and the gypsy feeding off of her for days. She tried to forget what it felt like. She remembered wishing and hoping and praying that Dean would come and find her. She remembered getting free from her bonds and almost getting free before the gypsy had found her and pinned her to the wall and kissed her.

No, not kissed her, but transferred something into her that had taken over.

The memories of the last few hours flooded back to her in little snippets. She had not been awake for all of it but she knew that what she had been conscious for that she had had no control over her own body. She remembered Dean carrying her out of the room, then they were in the hospital walking up a flight of steps and then down a long hallway, she had thought she had seen her mother lying in a bed, and then she was looking at herself in a bathroom mirror, her bright, unnatural green eyes looking back at her.

Jo opened her eyes and looked down at herself where she saw a pentagram necklace hanging from around her neck and she instantly knew what had happened. She could feel another jab of pain edging in for the next attack as she looked back up at Dean.

"I can feel it," she murmured, her voice sounding more like a sob as the pressure built up against her, "I can feel it inside of me."

"Jo, hold on," Dean was pleading.

"Untie me, please."

"Jo, I've got to be sure. What was the first thing I ever said to you?"

Jo thought hard again, grinding her teeth in an effort to keep the spirit inside of her at bay. The first thing he said to her? She remembered everything he ever said to her, but now...

"'God, I hope that's a rifle'," she said.

"Good girl."

Dean kissed her forehead again and untied the knots in the rope and helped her out of the chair, continuing to kiss the top of her head as they hobbled toward the bed. They had only made it half way across the room when another burst of pain exploded inside of Jo, causing her knees to buckle and her to fall into Dean's arms, her body shaking. He held onto her as tightly as he could but her spasm resisted his hold and he was forced to ease her as best he could onto the floor. All he could do was watch as she shook in torment, her screams penetrating the walls and drawing Bobby and Sam into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

Several minutes later, the attach ended and Jo lay motionless on the floor, her expression a twisted. She could still feel the awful burning pain searing lightly beneath her flesh while her stomach wretched and she vomited on the floor, but it did nothing to make her feel better as the agony and sickness continued to torture her body. She had lost control, unable to fight what had unwelcomely entered her body, and the only thing she could do was to curl of in a ball where she lay, rocking back and forth.

Dean bent down and lifted her small, shaking figure from the floor. He could feel that she was freezing, and saw her snow white skin shining in a cold sweat. Gently he placed her on the bed and pulled a blanket over her, which she immediately kicked away and rolled into a ball once more.

Dean stood up and stared down at her, helpless to do anything for her, unwilling to accept what he knew to be true. After a moment he felt a hand grasp his shoulder, warm and comforting and out of place, and a voice next to his ear whispered, "Son, come on out here."

Dean followed the gentle pull silently and willingly, desperate to get away from the heartbreaking sobs that now escaped through Jo against her pillow. Bobby led him out of the room, Sam shutting the door carefully behind them, and entered into the adjacent room. Noone said anything for a long moment, none daring to say what was going through each of their minds until, finally, Bobby took a step toward Dean, who stood against the wall with his head bowed, and put both of his hands on his shoulders.

"Son, you know what's got to be done."

"No," he answered, his voice husky.

"Bobby," Sam took a step closer to them but kept his distance, "There has to be something else we can do for her?"

"Sam," the old man turned his head slightly but never looked away from the top of Dean's head, "She's possessed. You know as well as I, there's nothing we can do-"

"Don't say that!" Dean roared as his head snapped up and pushed Bobby back so that the man stumbled into the table against the opposite wall.

"Don't say that," he repeated, "Don't you ever say that."

"Dean," Bobby said patiently, looking at him as a father would his son, "You saw her in there. That thing inside her is gonna kill her anyway. It's torturing her, tearing her apart from the inside out. The only thing we can do for her now is make it easier for her."

"Bobby," Dean's voice cracked, "I can't do it. That's Jo in there, I can't do that to her."

"If you don't that thing inside her will. Do you want to see her suffer? Do ya?"

"Dean," Sam dared another step, "Bobby's right."

"No," Dean whispered, all fury melted away to a pitiful, pleading voice, "No. Please, Bobby... Sam. No."

"Son, come on. You've got to do it. She'd want it to be you."

Dean looked between them, his eyes holding a urgent desperation for another option but was met with no reassurances. He bowed his head again, dejectedly sliding down the wall until he was on the floor, his head in his hands, face hidden behind his knees. Bobby and Sam backed away to give him room and watched the rise and fall of his as he took long, heavy breaths. After a few moments he stood up and walked out of the room without glancing at the two men, a glint of wet line reflecting off his face.

He paused before entering his and Jo's room to take a deep breath and pushed in the door. His gaze first fell on the empty bed and then found Jo on the floor next to their luggage, her hand reaching to tear the necklace off. Dean sprinted across the room and grabbed her arms, forcing them down to her sides easily as he would a doll's and held her face up to his in his hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked as she refused to meet his eyes, "What are you doing? Huh?"

"I... I just thought... if it t-took over th-then you'd-d have to stop her."

"Jo, it's not over, alright, I'm gonna find a way to help you."

"N-no you won't. You can't help m-me," Jo reached over and grabbed the bloody stake that had been lying on the floor and met his gaze, "Dean, please. I c-couldn't do it by myself. You have to do it."

Dean released her and stood up, turning his back as he wiped at his face, a sob catching in his throat. Jo struggled but stood up as well, laying a weak hand on his shoulder which he took in his own. Slowly he turned around to face her, raising her hand to his mouth to kiss it. Tears now shone in his eyes as they did Jo's. A thousand emotions flashed across his face as he met Jo's begging eyes, the pain she was feeling not entirely hidden from her face.

"Please, just do it."

Dean looked down as she pressed the piece of wood into his hand and placed her own on the back of his neck.

"J...just make it quick."

"Jo, I'm s-sorry."

"I love you."

Dean ran skimmed his fingers down the middle of her back and then into her thick, blonde hair and pulled her head towards his, kissing her as he had never before, with an need to relay something to her in their last few seconds together. In one kiss he tried to tell her everything that he could not say, and then it was over as he whispered softly in her ear 'I'm sorry' and plunged the stake into her stomach.

A tear fell.

--

_Ta Da!! One more chapter and I'm not even gonna tell you guys the name of it... mainly because I haven't thought of a good one yet. Hope you liked it please review!!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry, I never thought it would take this long to write. Nursing school really is a time taker. Hope you enjoys this it's the prelude to the last chapter._

**Chapter 16 Prelude- Dead**

She was aware of exactly three things.

Firstly, life does not flash before your eyes when you die. Instead, her mind had been clearer than usual, not racing a mile a minute but just quietly considering what was happening. She was not as terrified as she thought she should have been. Somehow, she felt less concerned with the fear of dying and more overwhelmed by how inconvenient it was to die. The timing could have definitely been better.

The second thing was that death did not hurt. Her body felt numb, a little cold, but certainly not as though she had just been jabbed by a sharp, wooden object. The few snatches of life she was able to take in while acutely aware of the fact that her heart was not beating and that she was drenched in her own blood, watching everything fly by faster than was possible, were not painful, but slightly amusing.

And lastly, Jo was aware that someone was holding her hand.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16- Along the Broken Road**

She was almost sure that she was dead. It was impossible that she could be alive. Surely, if she were not dead, there would be pain, but there was none. In its place was something cold being flushed through her veins. Also, there was a bright light shining somewhere in front of her breaking the darkness. That's what you were supposed to see when you die, right?

Still, it was hard enough to believe that there was a Heaven at all, let alone the possibility that she had ever done something great enough to be able to get there. Must have been a lottery draw type deal. In any case, this definitely meant that she was dead. There was only one problem. She knew that voice, the one that whispered in her ear. And the hand that was holding onto hers was so familiar since she had held it so many times. But there was no way he was with her now. Dean was still alive.

Jo looked around but it was only darkness around her except for the one light ahead of her. She was only imagining Dean's hand in hers, it was not real. Humph, some heaven.

No, this was definitely not heaven at all.

Jo blinked and opened her eyes and stared up at a florescent light above her. Suddenly, she was aware that she was lying down and was again unsure of where she was. If it were heaven then the bed would be more comfortable and the air would not smell like hand sanitiser and old people and that stupid beeping would not be giving her a headache. Jo tried to sit up but stopped when a sudden crippling pain finally shot through her body, a fire of unknown origin causing her to spasm in anguish and tangle up in her sheets.

She had been wrong. It was not Heaven, this was Hell.

"Jo? Jo, it's alright baby. Doctor! We need help in here!"

Dean's voice rang through her ears but nothing he said registered in her. All she could discern through the blinding redness clouding her eyes was a flurry of people in blue suits, a glint of a thin piece of metal, a faint prick on her arm, and then blankness.

--

Some time later she woke again, this time not daring to move an inch and a little more aware of her surroundings. Looking around at the plain white walls and the machinery lining the room it was plain to see that she was in a hospital.

Taking a better look, Jo noticed a small bouquet of multi-coloured flowers on the window sill next to two plain cards. Beside her was a small portable table with a tray of food on it, untouched, and on the floor was an old, brown duffle bag she had seen the boys carry around on their hunts with them. Immediately Jo's head swung around and saw, beside her, the top of Dean's head in rested in his arms by her side, his body hunched over onto the bed as he slept.

Cautiously, Jo dared to raise her arm and placed her hand on the top of Dean's head, running her fingers through his short, cropped hair. Another hand, his hand, rose and held hers firmly before bringing them to his lips and kissing her palm. She twitched as his warm, soft lips tickled her but he never released her. Instead he flattened her hand against his chest so that she could feel the steady beating of his heart beneath the flesh, his eyes locked on her face.

"Good morning, Beautiful," he murmured, brushing her hair back gently with his free hand.

"Good morning." Jo's voice came out as a croak.

"How're you feelin'?"

"It hurts a little, but I feel better I guess."

"You should. They've got you on enough drugs to numb a Clydesdale."

Dean smiled a little side-ways grin at his joke but it quickly disappeared again as he studied her up and down. Jo felt a little embarrassed under his scrutiny and shifted, but even this tiny movement made her flinch with discomfort. Trying to ignore it she reached out and touched Dean's cheek. He sighed and tilted his head to make it easier for her to touch him.

"Jo?"

"Hmm?"

"How... how much do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces."

"What about..."

"Yeah."

It was not a question, it was an answer to his unasked question. Dean's eyes burned through her, filled her with worst pain than she had felt yet. Both her hands were in his now as he rose from his chair and kissed her forehead and hovered directly over , "I'm sorry, Babe."

"I don't blame you, Dean."

"You should," his voice was husky and she could tell that he was hurting, too.

"Dean..."

"I should have never left like that. I should have called, I..."

Jo pulled one hand out of his and pressed a finger against his lips, "Shhhh, Dean. It's alright."

"No, it's not."

Dean closed in slowly on her as though he was afraid he would hurt her and their lips met, kissing gently. The kiss was short and safe, Dean barely daring to touch her. After a moment they broke apart but he did not move away. Jo closed her eyes and frowned a little at the darkness.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, stroking her head.

"I'm just tired, that's all."

"Then get some sleep."

Jo looked up at Dean just a few inches away. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

"You bet. Now go to sleep."

Jo shifted and closed her eyes, letting sleep take over.

--

The drugs were still doing their job when Jo woke up hours later. Immediately she turned to where Dean had sat earlier, but he was not there. Instead he had been replaced by another familiar face that Jo had been anxious to see. She was looking down at her, an odd expression in her eyes that Jo had not seen since her father had died years ago.

"Mom."

"Hey, Sweetie," Ellen cooed, taking her daughter's hand, "How you feelin'?"

"Better. Where's Dean?"

"I made him go downstairs and get something to eat. He hasn't left ya once and I wanted to talk to you by myself for a minute. Jo, you know what I said about bringing me home a Winchester?"

"Yeah."

"Well I don't think I've got any say in it anymore. That boy is crazy about you."

Jo looked up into her mother's smiling face. The evidence that she had been hurt in the roadhouse consisted of a few small scars running across her face. Jo recoiled as the memories flooded her again. After all the time she had spent trapped in the tiny, dark room, where the minutes felt like hours and days like years, it was hard to feel safe, even with her mother sitting beside her, the warmth of her hand seeping through her own.

"Jo," Ellen's voice was strained and the smile had disappeared from her face, "I want you to promise me somethin'"

"Yeah, Mom, anything."

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself. When I lost your daddy I didn't know what I was gonna do... but I had to take care of ya, so I pulled through and done the best I could. I never wanted you to be a hunter, not just because I wanted somethin' more for you, but because I was scared of losin' you just like I lost my Bill."

"Mom," Jo said, squeezing her hand, "I'm alright. You don't have to worry about me."

"I'll always worry about you, Baby."

"Yeah, I know."

--

The next few days passed in a blur of doctors and nurses. Jo slept half the time from still being on high amounts of drugs, but enjoyed her time awake despite the slight numbness from lying in bed day in and day out. The only visitors she got were her mother, Dean, Sam, and, on occasion, Bobby. Dean rarely left her side other than to eat, but Sam had managed to slip through the orange tape at the Roadhouse and she now felt much more comfortable in her own cotton pajamas rather than the hospital's backless, paper gowns.

By the end of the week she felt much better and was healing well according to her doctor, but she was still trapped in the abhorrent hospital room with the beeping monitor and the sickly, too-clean smell. Many times Jo thought that she would go stir-crazy before she ever got outside again. Although she was now aloud to walk around, she was still not aloud off her own ward (now on the third floor instead of the ICU) and was sure she'd have a trenched walked through the tiles. Her comfort was increased when she no longer needed a bed bath and could take a shower. Still, her biggest comfort was Dean's presence.

On her ninth day after waking up in the hospital, Jo had just woken up from her drug-induced mid-day nap when she spotted Dean standing in the doorway. This would not have been at all curious if he had not been holding a large bouquet of white lilies (her favourite) in his hand and if he were not wearing a grin on his face that clearly stated that he was up to something.

"Hey," she greeted him as he walked in and handed her the flowers, "What's all this for?"

"You'll see. Come on, time to get up."

"Where are we going?"

"Well... you said you wanted to go on a date, so..."

Jo stared up at him incredulously for several minutes. Was he really serious? Was he taking her on a date? In her Spongebob pajamas? And where exactly did he plan to take her? She was stuck in a hospital room after all.

"Would you stop looking at me like that," he teased.

"But, Dean, how..."

He placed a finger on her lips to silence her question held out his other hand for her to take. "Come with me."

Jo hesitated but was suddenly overwhelmed with curiosity and eagerness to find out what he had planned. Smiling, she laid her hand in his and allowed him to guide her out of the room and down the hall towards the lounge. Stepping in ahead of her, Dean opened the door and pulled her inside.

Jo's eyes lit up.

The couches had all been pushed back to the walls leaving a small empty space in the middle of the floor. The curtains were drawn shut, letting no sunlight in, but the room was instead lit with about fifty candles which were lying on every flat surface, their glow flickering along the walls like something she had only ever seen in movies. On one small table in the far corner was a CD player, humming out a beautiful composition.

"How do you like it?"

"It's beautiful, Dean," Jo turned around to face him and he quickly stooped down to kiss her softly. Not stepping an inch away, Dean reached down and grabbed a remote from another table, clicking the buttons twice. The soft classical music ceased and a new song began.

"I thought you hated REO?" Jo asked pulling her lips away from his.

Dean did not answer but set the converter down and held out his hand to her again.

"May I have this dance?" he asked politely.

Jo smiled and took his hand, being led to the center of the room. He pulled her close to his body and, careful not to hurt her stiches, began to dance slowly, holding her in his arms, his nose buried in her hair. Jo felt herself melt into him as they swayed, all of her built-up tension easing away as she relaxed and the scent of burning candles and Dean's aftershave intoxicating her like no amount of alcohol ever could. It was hard to feel embarrassed about her wardrobe when he held her like this.

"Jo?" Dean breathed into her hair.

"Yeah?" she breathed back. It was almost a sigh.

"I love you."

Jo pulled away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. She tried to look for the doubt he had been harbouring or something that showed that he was not being truthful with her, but all she could find was truth and happiness and hope and... love.

"Jo," he whispered again, "I love you. This scares me. Feeling like this, it's scarier than anything else I've had to face. When you were missing, all I could think about was the last time I'd seen you and I hated myself for leaving. All I know is that if you had died in that house I don't think I could have ever would have forgiven myself. I want to be with you, Jo," Dean stopped and waited, but was only met with silence.

"Would you say somethin'?"

"I love you, too, Dean."

Dean grinned. "Good."

There lips met again, merging in a kiss that they had both been waiting for to happen. Their kiss said everything that they could not, letting each other know that which has no words. Together they embraced, still swaying as one as their song continued to play:

I can't fight this feeling any longer  
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow  
What started out as friendship has grown stronger  
I only wish I had the strength to let it show

I tell myself, that I can't hold out forever  
I say there is no reason for my fear  
Cause I feel so secure when we're together  
You give my life direction, you make everything so clear

And even as I wonder I'm keeping you in sight  
You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night  
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for  
It's time to bring this ship into the shore  
and throw away the oars forever  
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for  
And if I have to crawl upon the floor  
Come crashing through your door  
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you  
I've been running around in circles in my mind  
Baby it always seems that I'm following you  
Cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find  
And even as I wonder I'm keeping you sight  
You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night  
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for  
It's time to bring this ship into the shore  
And throw away the oars forever  
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for  
And if I have to crawl upon the floor  
Come crashing through your door  
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore

The End


	18. Just a Note

So guys, I hope you enjoied my little attempt at a trilogy. When i first started writing i never thought i'd end up with 3 stories and when i realized where it was going i never imagined how long it would take to finish writing. I'm such a perfectionist with this stuff that i'm thinking about re doing the first story just to make it more interesting. I know i lost a lot of you around the end of it but i wanted to make it perfect and college is taking a lot of time from me. I haven't written much at all lately but essays. I am working on a Newfoundland story now about a serious issue within my own province. Who knows, this summer i may come up with something new and you get a new story to read from me. I am sorry about the time it took for the last chapter and if anyone is reading this who hasn't read chapter 17 please do so and review because i think this chapter took me longer than the first 3 did lol. I was trying to bring everything together and have a happy ending without making it out of character. I hope you approve. Well this is it for me. I hope i have time to post another story, but probably not a supernatural one since along with going to school full time i have no cable and therefore have not seen the new season. Sigh. Depressing I know. I hope everyone is well and thank you so much for following me through till the end. I love you all.

Xoxo

Renee


End file.
